WAYFARER 
IN  CHINA 


ELIZABETH 
KENDALL 


A  WAYFARER  IN  CHINA 


THE   LITTLE    "  FU   T'OU  "    (CARAVAN   HEADMAN) 


A  WAYFARER   IN   CHINA 

IMPRESSIONS   OF  A  TRIP 
ACROSS   WEST   CHINA  AND  MONGOLIA 

BY  ELIZABETH  KENDALL 

\ \ 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 


BOSTON  AND   NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN   COMPANY 

ftiticrsi&e  press  Cambribge 

1913 


£7 


COPYRIGHT,   1913,   BY  ELIZABETH   KENDALL 
ALL   RIGHTS   RESERVED 

Published  February   rg/s 


TO 
THE  HAPPY  MEMORY  OF  MY  MOTHER 

THE  ONE  WHO 
ALWAYS  UNDERSTOOD 


268596 


PREFACE 

A  WORD  of  explanation  may  help  to  an  under- 
standing of  this  record  of  a  brief  journey  in 
China,  in  1911,  in  the  last  quiet  months  before  the 
revolution. 

No  one  who  has  ever  known  the  joy  of  hunting 
impressions  of  strange  peoples  and  strange  lands 
in  the  out-of-the-way  corners  of  the  world  can  ever 
feel  quite  free  again,  for  he  hears  always  a  compel- 
ling voice  that  "  calls  him  night  and  day  "  to  go  forth 
on  the  chase  once  more.  Years  ago,  for  a  beginning, 
I  pursued  impressions  and  experiences  in  the  Far 
West  on  the  frontier,  —  there  was  a  frontier  then. 
And  since  that  time,  whenever  chance  has  offered, 
that  has  been  my  holiday  pastime,  among  the  Ken- 
tucky mountains,  in  the  Taurus,  in  Montenegro,  in 
India.  Everywhere  there  is  interest,  for  everywhere 
there  is  human  nature,  but  whoever  has  once  come 
under  the  spell  of  the  Orient  knows  that  henceforth 
there  is  no  choice  ;  footloose,  he  must  always  turn 
eastwards. 

But  really  to  see  the  East  one  must  shun  the  half- 
Europeanized  town  and  the  treaty  port,  must  leave 
behind  the  comforts  of  hotel  and  railway,  and  be  ready 
to  accept  the  rough  and  the  smooth  of  unbeaten 


viii  PREFACE 

trails.  But  the  compensations  are  many :  changing 
scenes,  long  days  out  of  doors,  freedom  from  the 
bondage  of  conventional  life,  and  above  all,  the  fas- 
cination of  living  among  peoples  of  primitive  sim- 
plicity and  yet  of  a  civilization  so  ancient  that  it 
makes  all  that  is  oldest  in  the  West  seem  raw  and 
crude  and  unfinished.  So  when  two  years  ago  my 
feet  sought  again  the  "  open  road,"  it  was  towards 
the  East  that  I  naturally  turned,  and  this  time  it  was 
China  that  called  me.  I  did  not  go  in  pursuit  of  any 
information  in  particular,  but  just  to  get  for  myself 
an  impression  of  the  country  and  the  people.  My 
idea  of  the  Chinese  had  been  derived,  like  that  of 
most  Americans,  from  books  and  chance  observation 
of  the  handful  of  Kwangtung  men  who  are  earning 
their  living  among  us  by  washing  our  clothes.  Silent, 
inscrutable,  they  flit  through  the  American  scene, 
alien  to  the  last.  What  lies  behind  the  riddle  of  their 
impassive  faces?  Perhaps  I  could  find  an  answer. 
Then,  too,  it  was  clear,  even  to  the  most  unintelli- 
gent, that  a  change  was  coming  over  the  East,  though 
few  realized  how  speedily.  I  longed  to  see  the  old 
China  before  I  made  ready  to  welcome  the  new.  But 
not  the  China  of  the  coast,  for  there  the  West  had 
already  left  its  stamp.  So  I  turned  to  the  interior,  to  the 
western  provinces  of  Yunnan  and  Szechuan.  Wonder- 
ful for  scenery,  important  in  commerce  and  politics, 
still  unspoiled,  there  I  could  find  what  I  wanted. 


PREFACE  ix 

Of  course  I  was  told  not  to  do  it,  it  would  not  be 
safe,  but  that  is  what  one  is  always  told.  A  long,  sol- 
itary summer  spent  a  few  years  ago  among  the  Him- 
alayas of  Western  Tibet,  in  Ladakh  and  Baltistan, 
gave  me  heart  to  face  such  discouragement,  and 
I  found,  as  I  had  found  before,  that  those  who  knew 
the  country  best  were  most  ready  to  speed  me  on- 
ward. And  as  the  following  pages  show,  there  was 
nothing  to  fear.  I  had  no  difficulties,  no  adventures, 
hardly  enough  to  make  the  tale  interesting. 

It  is  true,  I  had  some  special  advantages.  I  was 
an  American  and  a  woman,  and  no  longer  young. 
Chinese  respect  for  grey  hair  is  a  very  real  thing ;  a 
woman  is  not  feared  as  a  man  may  be,  and  hostility 
is  often  nothing  more  than  fear  ;  and  even  in  remote 
Szechuan  I  met  men  who  knew  that  the  American 
Government  had  returned  the  Boxer  indemnity,  and 
who  looked  kindly  upon  me  for  that  reason.  If  the 
word  of  certain  foreigners  is  to  be  trusted,  I  gained 
in  not  knowing  the  language ;  the  people  would  not 
take  advantage  of  my  helplessness.  That  seems 
rather  incredible;  if  it  is  true,  the  whole  Western 
world  has  something  to  learn  of  China. 

But  I  could  not  have  done  what  I  did  without  the 
wise  and  generous  aid  of  many  whom  I  met  along 
the  way,  Europeans  and  Chinese,  officials,  mer- 
chants, and  above  all  missionaries,  everywhere  the 
pioneers.  To  them  all  I  tender  here  my  grateful 


x  PREFACE 

thanks.  And  to  the  representatives  of  the  Hong  Kong 
and  Shanghai  Bank  wherever  I  met  them,  and  also 
to  those  of  the  Russo-Asiatic  Bank  I  would  express 
my  gratitude  for  many  courtesies  shown  me. 

As  I  look  back  I  know  it  was  worth  while,  all  of 
it.  Half  a  dozen  months  count  for  little  toward  the 
real  understanding  of  a  strange  civilization,  but  it  is 
something  to  have  seen  a  great  people  in  its  home, 
to  have  watched  it  at  work  and  at  play,  for  you  have 
been  forced  once  again  to  realize  that  although 
"  East  is  East  and  West  is  West,"  the  thing  that  most 
matters  is  the  nature  of  the  man,  and  that  everywhere 
human  nature  is  much  the  same. 

THE  ORCHARD, 

WELLESLEY,  MASSACHUSETTS, 
November,  1912. 


CONTENTS 

I.  ACROSS  TONKING 3 

II.  DAYS  IN  YUNNAN-FU 24 

III.  ACROSS  YUNNAN 41 

IV.  THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG 71 

V.  ON  THE  MANDARIN  ROAD 101 

VI.  TACHIENLU 123 

VII.   THE  LESSER  TRAIL 139 

VIII.   ACROSS  CHENGTU  PLAIN         .        .        .        .       161 

IX.   OMEI  SHAN,  THE  SACRED 180 

X.   DOWN  THE  YANGTSE 202 

XI.   FROM  THE  GREAT  RIVER  TO  THE  GREAT  WALL  221 
XII.  THE  MONGOLIAN  GRASSLAND  ....      236 

XIII.  ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI    ....  256 

XIV.  URGA,  THE  SACRED  CITY        .        .        .        .276 
XV.  NORTH  TO  THE  SIBERIAN  RAILWAY    .        .        .  289 

XVI.   A  FEW  FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  CHINA    .        .      308 
INDEX 323 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

THE  LITTLE  "Fu  T'OU"  (CARAVAN  HEADMAN)    (p.  6)    Frontispiece 
MAP  OF  CHINESE  EMPIRE          .......          3 

A  YUNNAN  VALLEY 22 

OUTSIDE  THE  WALLS  OF  YUNNAN-FU 22 

MY  SEDAN  CHAIR  AND  BEARERS 32 

A  MEMORIAL  ARCH  NEAR  YUNNAN-FU 32 

MAP  OF  WEST  CHINA 42 

ON  A  YUNNAN  ROAD:  MY  CARAVAN  —  THE  MILITARY  ESCORT    44 
WU-TING-CHOU  :  TEMPLE  GATEWAY  —  TEMPLE  CORNER     .        .    60 

LOLO  GIRLS 80 

"TAME,  WILD"  LOLOS  . 80 

A  MEMORIAL  ARCH.    SZECHUAN 92 

FORTIFIED  VILLAGE  IN  THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  VALLEY  .       .       .92 
"MERCURY,"  MY  FLEET  COOLIE        ......      IO6 

CARRIER  COOLIES 106 

A  GROUP  OF  SZECHUAN  FARMHOUSES 114 

A  VIEW  OF  TACHIENLU 124 

TIBETANS 124 

LAMA  AND  DOG  AT  TACHIENLU 134 

THE  GATE  OF  TIBET 134 

A  WAYSIDE  REST-HOUSE 144 

A  FORTIFIED  POST 144 


xiv  ILLUSTRATIONS 

A  ROADSIDE  TEA-HOUSE 152 

TEA  COOLIE  CROSSING  A  SUSPENSION  BRIDGE         .        .        .152 

A  FARMHOUSE  IN  CHENGTU  PLAIN 162 

MEMORIAL  ARCH  TO  A  "VIRTUOUS  WIDOW,"  CHENGTU  PLAIN  168 

THE  «  REJECTION  OF  THE  BODY  "  (CLIFF  A  MILE  HIGH),  MOUNT 
OMEI,  WEST  SZECHUAN 196 

IN  THE  YANGTSE  GORGES 218 

TARTAR  WALL,  PEKING 230 

CARAVAN  OUTSIDE  THE  TARTAR  WALL 230 

A  POOR  MONGOL  FAMILY  AND  YURT 248 

JACK  AND  HIS  LAMA  FRIEND 258 

MY  CARAVAN  ACROSS  MONGOLIA 258 

HORSEMEN  OF  THE  DESERT,  NORTH  MONGOLIA          .        .        .  268 

A  LAMA  BOUND  FOR  URGA 278 

A  MONGOL  BELLE,  URGA 278 

MY  MONGOL  HOSTESS 284 

THE  MONGOL  HOUSE  WHERE  I  STAYED  IN  URGA       .       .        .  284 
LAMA  AND  HIS  "WIFE" 300 

My  thanks  are  due  to  Robert  J.  Davidson,  Esq.,  of  Chengtu,  Szechuan,  for  kind 
permission  to  use  the  photograph  of  the  Yangtse  Gorges.  Also  to  Messrs.  Under- 
wood &  Underwood,  of  New  York,  for  the  photographs  of  the  Tartar  Wall,  Peking. 
With  these  exceptions  the  illustrations  are  from  photographs  made  by  myself  on 
the  journey.  I  should  like  to  express  here  my  appreciation  of  the  care  and  skill 
shown  by  the  staff  of  the  Kodak  Agency,  Regent  Street,  West,  in  handling  films 
often  used  under  very  unfavourable  conditions. 

E.K. 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  PRONOUNCING 
CHINESE  NAMES  IN  THE  TEXT 

IN  general  vowels  are  pronounced  as  in  Italian. 

a  preceded  by  w  and  followed  by  ng  is  like  a  in  fall. 

u  like  the  French  u. 

ai  like  i  in  mine. 

ao  like  ou  in  proud. 

ei  like  ey  in  they. 

ie  like  e-e  in  re-enter. 

ui  with  vowels  distinct. 

ou  with  vowels  distinct  and  stress  on  o. 

Of  the  consonants,  ch,  k,  p,  t,  ts  are  softer  than  in  Eng- 
lish, approaching  respectively.;,  g,  b,  d,  dz. 
hs  is  approximately  sh  (hsien  =  she-en) . 


MONEY,  WEIGHTS  AND  MEASURES 

Tael,  roughly  two-thirds  of  a  dollar  gold. 
Dollar  or  dollar  Mex.,  about  fifty  cents  gold. 
Cash,  about  the  twentieth  part  of  a  cent  gold. 
Li,  a  scant  third  of  an  English  mile. 
Catty,  about  one  and  one-third  pounds  avoirdupois. 


A  WAYFARER  IN  CHINA 


For  the  wander-thirst  is  on  me 
And  my  soul  is  in  Cathay. 


CHINESE  EMPIRE 


0   -        100          200          300         400         500 
Wayfarers  Trai 


A  WAYFARER  IN  CHINA 


CHAPTER  I 

ACROSS   TONKING 

THREE  years  ago  West  China  seemed  at  the 
back  of  beyond.  To  make  your  way  in  you  had 
either  to  traverse  the  length  of  Upper  Burma  and  then 
cross  the  great  rivers  and  ranges  of  western  Yunnan, 
a  weary  month-long  journey,  or  else  spend  tedious 
weeks  ascending  the  Yangtse,  the  monotony  of 
the  trip  tempered  by  occasional  shipwreck.  To-day, 
thanks  to  French  enterprise,  you  can  slip  in  between 
mountain  and  river  and  find  yourself  at  Yunnan-fu, 
the  provincial  capital,  after  a  railway  journey  of  only 
three  days  and  a  half  from  Haiphong,  the  port  of 
Tonking. 

When  first  planning  a  visit  to  West  China,  I  set 
my  heart  on  going  in  from  the  west,  for  I  had  long 
wished  to  see  the  wild,  picturesque  country  that  lies 
between  the  Burmese  frontier  and  the  Yangtse.  Years 
before,  I  had  looked  across  the  border  and  promised 
myself  that  some  day  I  would  find  out  what  lay  on 
the  other  side.  But  when  the  time  came  the  difficulty 


4  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

of  securing  a  Chinese  interpreter  in  Burma  forced  me 
to  go  to  Hong  Kong,  and  once  there,  lack  of  time 
made  it  necessary  that  I  should  choose  the  shortest 
route  into  West  China,  and  that  was  by  way  of  Hai- 
phong and  the  Red  River  railway.  After  all,  there 
were  compensations.  Even  a  fleeting  vision  from  the 
windows  of  a  railway  carriage  gives  some  idea  of 
what  the  French  are  doing  in  their  great  Eastern 
colony.  Moreover,  there  could  be  no  better  starting- 
point  for  such  a  trip  as  I  had  before  me  than  the  free 
port  of  Hong  Kong,  and  the  comfort  of  arranging 
an  outfit  in  a  place  where  East  and  West  meet  un- 
trammelled by  custom-houses  is  not  to  be  despised. 
As  a  rule  it  is  a  mistake  to  bring  an  elaborate  outfit 
from  home.  Generally  each  place  has  worked  out 
just  the  devices  that  best  serve  its  particular  needs, 
and  much  of  Western  travelling  equipment  does  not 
fit  in  with  the  conditions  of  Eastern  life.  Shoes  and 
saddles  the  traveller  from  the  West  wisely  brings  with 
him,  and  of  course  all  scientific  apparatus  is  best  pro- 
vided in  Europe.  But  in  the  main  I  found  all  that  I 
needed,  whether  of  Eastern  or  Western  manufacture, 
in  Hong  Kong,  and  at  surprisingly  low  prices.  In- 
terpreter and  cook  I  had  secured  from  Shanghai.  The 
former,  a  Kiangsi  man,  was  the  product  of  mission 
schools  and  a  year  in  an  American  Western  college. 
He  spoke  English  fairly  well,  and  was  sufficiently  at 
home  in  the  various  forms  of  Mandarin  to  get  on  in 


ACROSS  TONKING  5 

Yunnan  and  Szechuan.  The  cook  had  come  down  the 
"Great  River"  from  Chung-king  with  an  English 
family  returning  home,  and  was  glad  to  work  his  way 
back,  even  though  by  a  round-about  route.  Although 
he  spoke  no  English,  he  understood  European  ways 
and  was  quick  to  comprehend  my  wishes.  And  he 
proved  a  faithful,  hard-working  fellow,  and  a  very 
passable  cook. 

By  the  end  of  March  my  preparations  were  com- 
plete. The  boat  for  Haiphong  was  to  leave  at  nine 
o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  29th,  and  the  evening 
before  two  sampans  took  me  and  my  kit,  together 
with  the  interpreter  and  the  cook,  out  to  where  she 
lay  at  her  moorings.  My  belongings  looked  rather 
formidable  as  they  lay  heaped  up  on  the  deck  of  the 
Sikiang,  of  the  Est  Asiatique  Frangais  line,  but,  after 
all,  there  was  only  a  moderate  supply  of  stores,  such 
as  tea,  jam,  biscuit,  sugar,  cereals,  tinned  meats  and 
tinned  milk,  together  with  a  few  enamelled  iron  dishes 
and  the  cook's  stew-pans,  all  packed  in  wooden 
boxes.  The  bedding-roll  and  clothing  were  put  in 
camp-bags  of  waterproof  canvas,  while  the  necessary 
maps  and  cameras  and  films  were  carried  in  suit-cases 
for  safe-keeping.  An  English  cross  saddle  brought 
from  Shanghai  proved  more  satisfactory  for  the  small 
Yunnan  ponies  than  would  have  been  the  Mexican 
saddle  which  I  had  tried  in  vain  to  secure.  Acting  on 
a  timely  word  of  warning  I  bought  in  Hong  Kong  a 


6  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

most  comfortable  sedan-chair,  a  well-made  bamboo 
affair  fitted  with  a  top  and  adjustable  screens  and 
curtains  to  keep  out  either  rain  or  sun.  I  had  been 
told  that  I  should  have  no  use  for  a  tent,  but  that  a 
camp-bed  was  a  necessity,  and  so  it  proved.  The  bed 
I  took  with  me  was  of  American  manufacture  ;  com- 
pact and  light,  and  fitted  with  a  mosquito  frame,  it 
served  me  throughout  all  my  journey  ings  and  was 
finally  left  in  Urga  in  North  Mongolia,  on  the  chance 
that  it  might  serve  another  traveller  a  good  turn.  An 
important  part  of  my  outfit,  a  small  Irish  terrier, 
arrived  from  Japan  the  next  morning,  when  I  had 
about  given  him  up.  He  was  dropped  into  my  wait- 
ing sampan  as  his  ship,  homeward  bound  to  Calcutta 
from  Kobe,  came  into  her  moorings,  and  we  climbed 
up  the  side  of  the  Sikiang  not  fifteen  minutes  before 
she  was  off.  All 's  well  that  ends  well.  We  were  safe 
on  board,  and  I  had  secured  a  gay  little  comrade 
in  my  solitary  journeying,  while  before  Jack  lay  a 
glorious  run  of  two  thousand  odd  miles. 

The  mail  boat  to  Haiphong,  due  to  make  the  trip 
in  fifty-three  hours,  had  once  been  a  royal  Portuguese 
yacht,  but  the  only  remaining  traces  of  her  former 
glory  were  the  royal  monogram,  "M.R.P.,"  conspic- 
uous in  glass  and  woodwork,  and  her  long,  graceful 
lines,  charming  to  look  at,  but  not  well  fitted  to  con- 
tend with  the  cross-currents  of  the  China  Sea.  As  the 
only  lady  passenger  I  had  very  comfortable  quarters, 


ACROSS  TONKING  7 

and  the  kindest  attention  from  French  officers  and 
Annamese  stewards.  The  second  afternoon  there 
came  a  welcome  diversion  when  the  boat  put  into 
Kwang-chou-wan,  two  hundred  miles  southwest  of 
Hong  Kong,  to  visit  the  new  free  port  of  Fort  Bayard, 
the  commercial  and  military  station  which  the  French 
are  creating  in  the  cession  they  secured  from  China 
in  1898,  and  which,  if  all  goes  well,  is  some  day  to 
rival  Hong  Kong.  The  Bay  of  Kwang-chou  is  very 
fine,  affording  a  safe  harbour  to  the  two  or  three 
ships  that  were  riding  at  anchor,  or  to  two  or  three 
navies  if  need  came,  but  Fort  Bayard  displays  as 
yet  few  signs  of  the  prophesied  greatness.  To  while 
away  the  hours  of  waiting  I  went  on  shore  and  wan- 
dered about  the  empty,  grass-grown  roads  of  the  tiny 
settlement.  To  the  right  as  one  walked  up  from  the 
beach  stretched  a  long  line  of  substantial-looking 
barracks,  and  many  of  the  houses  were  of  European 
appearance,  attractively  set  in  large  gardens.  Above 
the  whole  towered  a  rather  pretentious  two-spired 
church.  The  one  native  and  business  street  running 
parallel  with  the  beach  showed  little  life ;  people  did 
not  wake  up  even  at  the  coming  of  the  fortnightly 
mail  from  Hong  Kong,  and  the  native  population 
seemed  no  more  than  sufficient  to  serve  the  needs  of 
the  foreign  element. 

We  were  joined  here  by  two  or  three  French  offi- 
cials attended  by  an  escort  of  Annamese  policemen. 


8  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

These  latter  had  a  decidedly  ladylike,  genteel  air  with 
their  hair  smoothly  brushed  and  twisted  in  a  low  knot 
at  the  back  of  the  neck,  the  whole  bound  round  with 
a  black  kerchief  laid  in  neat  folds.  Their  uniform  was 
of  dark  blue  woollen  set  off  by  putties  of  a  lighter  blue, 
and  their  appearance  was  decidedly  shipshape.  I 
talked  with  one  of  the  Frenchmen  returning  from  an 
official  visit  to  Fort  Bayard.  He  seemed  to  have  little 
faith  in  the  new  settlement,  declaring  the  Government 
had  poured  in  money  like  water,  and  with  no  ade- 
quate return. 

It  is  more  than  a  century  since  France  began  to 
interest  herself  in  this  part  of  the  world,  dreaming 
dreams  of  an  Eastern  empire  to  offset  the  one  she  had 
just  lost  in  America.  Then  came  the  French  Revolu- 
tion, and  the  dream  went  the  way  of  many  more 
substantial  things,  and  it  was  not  until  the  days  of 
the  Second  Empire  that  Napoleon  III,  looking  east 
and  west,  again  took  up  the  question.  Little  by  little 
the  French  strengthened  their  hold  upon  the  Indo- 
China  peninsula,  and  the  final  contest  came  in  the 
eighties,  a  part  of  the  universal  game  of  grab  then 
going  on  in  Africa  and  Asia.  Although  China  gave 
up  her  claim  to  the  territory  a  quarter  of  a  century 
ago,  it  took  many  years  longer  to  pacify  the  country, 
and  there  is  still  something  to  be  done.  The  cost  in 
men  and  money  has  been  very  great,  and  at  one 
time  the  whole  policy  of  colonial  expansion  became 


ACROSS  TONKING  9 

so  unpopular  that  it  spelled  political  ruin  to  the  man 
most  identified  with  it,  Jules  Ferry,  "I'homme  de 
Tonking." 

The  real  history  of  Tonking  dates  from  the  admin- 
istration of  M.  Doumer,  Governor-General  of  Indo- 
China  from  1897 to  1902.  During  these  five  years  the 
Parisian  printer,  turned  Radical  politician  and  admin- 
istrator, showed  what  one  able  and  determined  man 
could  do.  When  he  arrived  in  the  East,  piracy  and 
brigandage  were  rife,  there  was  an  annual  deficit  of 
some  three  million  francs,  and  the  feeble  administra- 
tion had  done  nothing  to  develop  the  possibilities  of 
the  country.  When  he  left,  the  colony  was  upon  its 
feet,  lawlessness  had  been  suppressed,  the  administra- 
tion reformed,  and  the  deficit  turned  into  a  substan- 
tial surplus.  He  had  built  towns  and  telegraphs,  en- 
couraged the  native  industries  of  rice  planting  and 
silk  culture,  and  by  offering  special  inducements  to 
French  enterprise  had  developed  tea,  coffee,  and  rub- 
ber growing. 

Nor  did  the  energetic  imperialist  stop  here.  Believ- 
ing that  "  a  nation  to  be  great  should  be  always  striv- 
ing to  be  greater,"  he  began  to  develop  a  vigorous 
forward  policy  which  seemed  to  have  as  its  goal  no- 
thing less  than  the  control  of  Yunnan  and  Southeast 
China.  Colonial  expansion  was  necessary  to  the  con- 
tinued existence  of  France,  he  declared.  In  his  last 
report,  looking  back  to  the  achievements  of  a  past 


io  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

generation,  he  concluded,  "We  are  the  same  men, 
but  we  no  longer  believe  in  ourselves.  We  act  as  if 
we  were  a  vanquished  people,  and  in  any  case  we  ap- 
pear so  to  the  world.  This  is  the  result  of  our  policy 
of  effacement  for  which  must  be  substituted  at  all 
costs  a  policy  of  action  which  will  permit  us  to  hold 
our  rank." 

It  is  true  the  forward  policy  did  not  originate  with 
M.  Doumer,  for  the  value  of  Tonking  as  the  key  to 
China  had  been  recognized  by  French  statesmen  be- 
fore ever  he  put  foot  in  the  colony,  but  it  was  his  task 
to  make  that  policy  something  more  than  a  pious  as- 
piration. Not  only  did  he  set  about  making  the  French 
possessions  the  needed  commercial  and  industrial  base 
for  such  an  undertaking,  but  he  also  initiated  the  next 
move  in  the  game,  the  development  of  railway  sys- 
tems which  would  bring  French  traders,  and  if  need 
be  French  soldiers,  into  the  heart  of  the  coveted  ter- 
ritory. He  worked  out  all  the  plans,  urged  them  upon 
the  Government,  and  did  more  than  any  other  man 
to  secure  the  necessary  support  of  the  French  finan- 
ciers ;  to-day  railways  linked  up  with  Hanoi  and  Hai- 
phong have  crossed  the  Chinese  frontier  at  two  points, 
Dong  Dang  and  Ho-k'ou. 

The  colony,  to  call  it  by  its  correct  name,  of  Kwang- 
chou  held  an  important  place  in  M.  Doumer's  scheme, 
and  he  predicted  for  it  a  "  brilliant  future  as  a  port  of 
commerce."  Like  the  rest  of  his  party  he  regretted 


ACROSS  TONKING  n 

the  mistaken  moderation  of  the  Government  in  not 
acquiring  at  the  same  time  a  lease  of  the  island  of 
Hainan.  Something  is  being  done  now  to  repair  this 
unfortunate  error  by  industriously  developing  French 
hold  upon  that  territory,  and  the  big  consulate  and 
the  French  post-office  and  hospital  at  Hoi-hou,  the 
chief  port,  are  significant  of  future  hopes,  even  if 
not  justified  by  present  conditions. 

The  following  noon,  after  we  left  Kwang-chou,  we 
were  approaching  Haiphong  through  muddy  red 
channels  between  the  low-lying  meadow  lands  which 
here  border  the  river  Cua-Cam,  on  the  right  bank  of 
which  lies  the  chief  commercial  centre  of  Tonking. 
But  its  days  as  a  shipping  port  are  said  to  be  num- 
bered, because  of  the  difficult  approach.  Much  money 
has  been  spent  in  efforts  to  improve  the  waterway, 
but  with  no  satisfactory  results,  and  now  it  is  proposed 
to  create  a  new  port  in  the  beautiful  Baie  d' Along,  a 
little  farther  east.  There  was  some  doubt  in  my  mind 
as  to  the  reception  awaiting  us.  We  had  been  told 
that  the  customs  inspection  was  severe,  and  we  had 
many  packages  ;  no  Chinese  would  be  admitted  with- 
out passports,  and  I  had  neglected  to  provide  any  for 
my  men;  there  was  a  strict  muzzling  law  on,  and  Jack 
had  not  even  a  collar.  But  the  graceful  courtesy  of 
the  French  officials  smoothed  away  every  difficulty. 
We  were  bowed  out  of  the  custom-house  with  our 
packages  unopened.  At  the  police  headquarters, 


12  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

where  I  at  once  reported  myself  with  my  Chinese  men, 
we  were  met  by  one  of  my  fellow  passengers  from 
Kwang-chou  who  had  hurried  ahead  to  explain  the 
situation,  and  thanks  to  his  efforts  the  lack  of  pass- 
ports was  kindly  overlooked.  As  for  Jack,  he  was 
quickly  furnished  with  all  the  equipment  of  the  civil- 
ized dog  —  muzzle,  collar,  chain  —  at  one  of  the  large 
outfitting-shops,  of  which  there  seemed  quite  enough 
for  the  needs  of  the  place. 

Haiphong  is  an  attractive  town  of  some  twenty 
thousand  inhabitants,  of  whom  perhaps  one  thousand 
are  Europeans.  It  is  planned  with  an  eye  to  the  fu- 
ture, like  all  French  colonial  centres,  with  broad 
streets  and  imposing  public  buildings.  But  a  deep 
calm  brooded  over  everything ;  there  was  no  bustle 
in  the  thoroughfares,  and  the  shops  seemed  unvisited, 
nor  did  their  proprietors  show  interest  in  attracting 
custom.  In  one  of  the  largest  I  offered  a  piastre,  fifty 
cents  gold,  in  payment  for  a  few  picture  post-cards, 
but  they  could  not  change  the  coin,  and  seemed  dis- 
inclined to  make  the  effort  to  do  it,  so  I  went  without 
my  cards.  The  Annamese,  who  form  the  bulk  of  the 
population,  are  attractive  in  appearance,  finer  in  feat- 
ure and  gentler  in  manner  than  the  Chinese.  Save  for 
a  serious  cast  of  face,  they  are  much  like  the  Bur- 
mese. Their  dress  is  quieter  in  tone  than  that  of  either 
their  Burmese  cousins  or  their  Chinese  neighbours, 
and  is  severely  utilitarian  in  cut,  differing  little  for 


ACROSS  TONKING  13 

men  or  women.  The  working  dress  of  Haiphong  was 
full,  long,  square-cut  trousers  over  which  fell  a  sort  of 
prolonged  shirt  slashed  to  the  waist.  When  at  work 
the  front  panel  was  tucked  up  out  of  the  way.  All 
alike  wore  huge  straw  hats  tied  under  the  chin. 

But  I  saw  little  of  Haiphong,  as  I  left  the  same 
evening,  and  even  less  of  Hanoi,  the  capital,  where 
we  arrived  at  half-past  ten,  starting  off  again  before 
eight  o'clock  the  next  morning.  I  was  sorry  not  to 
see  more  of  the  latter  place,  for  it  is  one  of  the  finest 
cities  in  the  Far  East.  But  I  carried  away  a  vision  of 
a  good  hotel,  an  imposing  capitol,  and  a  pretentious 
station,  all  set  on  wide  streets  lined  with  European- 
looking  houses  surrounded  by  real  green  grass  lawns. 
A  twenty-minute  run  in  a  rickshaw  soon  after  dawn 
showed  fine  chaussees  leading  out  into  the  country 
and  filled,  even  at  this  early  hour,  with  crowds  of 
country-folk  bringing  their  produce  to  market.  I  be- 
lieve there  are  over  one  hundred  miles  of  metalled 
roads  in  the  capital  and  the  suburbs,  all  due  to  un- 
tiring M.  Doumer.  But  his  most  enduring  monument 
in  Hanoi  is  the  fine  exposition  buildings.  When  he 
went  home  to  raise  a  second  loan  of  two  hundred 
million  francs  for  the  development  of  the  colony,  the 
men  to  whom  he  appealed  naturally  asked  what 
were  the  resources  of  the  country.  His  convincing 
reply  was  the  famous  exposition  of  1902. 

There  is  one  through  train  daily  each  way  between 


I4  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

Haiphong  and  Yunnan-fu.  The  distance  is  about  six 
hundred  miles,  and  it  took  three  days  and  an  evening 
to  make  the  trip.  There  is  no  traffic  by  night,  and 
this  seems  to  be  the  rule  on  these  adventurous  rail- 
ways, for  I  met  the  same  thing  on  the  Anatolian  and 
Bagdad  lines  between  Constantinople  and  Eregli. 
The  corridor  trains  are  equipped  with  four  classes. 
The  first  was  inferior  to  the  same  class  on  Continen- 
tal lines,  but  that  seemed  to  matter  little,  for  it  was 
usually  empty.  As  a  gay  young  Englishman  in  Yun- 
nan-fu remarked,  no  one  went  first-class  unless  he  was 
travelling  at  some  one's  else  expense.  The  second 
and  third  class  were  very  good  of  their  kind,  and  the 
fourth  was  far  and  away  the  most  comfortable  ar- 
rangement of  the  sort  I  had  ever  seen,  with  benches 
along  the  sides  and  large  unglazed  window  openings. 
Most  of  the  passengers  and  all  the  jollity  went  in  this 
class.  Everywhere  there  were  other  than  human  trav- 
ellers ;  birds,  dogs,  goats,  and  pigs  were  given  room, 
always  on  condition  of  having  a  ticket.  I  paid  four 
dollars  gold  for  my  dog's  ticket  from  Haiphong  to 
Yunnan-fu,  but  having  paid,  Jack's  right  in  the  car- 
riage was  as  unquestioned  as  mine,  and  I  found  this 
true  in  all  my  railway  travel  in  China. 

The  Tonking- Yunnan  railway  is  a  remarkable  un- 
dertaking, and  shows  the  seriousness  with  which  the 
French  are  attacking  the  problems  of  Far  Eastern 
colonization.  The  lower  half  of  the  line,  which  here 


ACROSS  TONKING  15 

follows  up  the  Red  River  valley,  presented  few  seri- 
ous engineering  difficulties,  although  calling  for  at 
least  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  bridges  on  the 
section  south  of  Lao-kai,  but  it  was  almost  impossible 
to  secure  labourers  for  the  construction  work.  Anna- 
mese  refused  to  lend  a  hand,  and  the  Chinese  died 
like  flies  from  the  malarial  conditions.  For  a  time 
work  was  at  a  standstill,  and  in  the  end  it  had  to  be 
suspended  during  the  summer  months.  The  upper 
part,  on  the  other  hand,  especially  that  section  which 
runs  through  the  Namti  valley,  tested  to  the  utmost 
the  skill  of  the  French  engineers.  And  the  cost  was 
correspondingly  great.  Even  as  it  is,  much  of  the  em- 
banking seems  to  be  of  a  rather  slight  character,  and 
quite  unfit  to  stand  the  tremendous  tropical  down- 
pours of  the  early  summer  months.  After  leaving 
China  I  learned  that  I  had  passed  over  the  line  just 
in  time,  for  the  rains  set  in  very  early  in  the  summer 
of  1911,  and  for  weeks  traffic  was  fearfully  interrupted 
by  landslips  and  broken  bridges. 

Whether  the  line  will  prove  a  financial  success  de- 
pends on  some  things  not  wholly  under  control.  The 
present  customs  regulations  certainly  tend  to  check 
the  development  of  trade  in  Tonking,  and  the  trans- 
portation rates  are  perhaps  more  than  traffic  can  bear. 
The  French,  however,  can  change  their  policy  in  these 
respects  if  they  think  best.  But  the  proposed  con- 
struction by  the  Chinese  Government  of  a  railway 


i6  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

connecting  Yunnan-fu  and  the  West  River  valley 
would  cut  the  ground  out  from  under  their  feet.  For 
the  moment,  the  Revolution  has  stopped  the  enter- 
prise, but  it  is  certain  to  be  taken  up  again,  as  there 
are  no  insuperable  engineering  obstacles  in  the  way, 
and  every  economic  and  political  reason  for  giving 
Yunnan  an  outlet  to  the  sea  through  Chinese  territory. 

On  leaving  Hanoi  in  the  early  morning  light  we 
struck  across  a  wide  fertile  plain,  beautifully  cultivated; 
fields  of  rice  alternating  with  maize  stretched  away 
to  a  wall  of  feathery  bamboo  broken  by  stately  palms 
and  glossy  mangoes.  After  a  little  the  country  be- 
came more  broken,  rolling  near  by,  mountainous  in 
the  distance.  The  vegetation,  dense  and  tropical, 
hemmed  in  the  line  on  both  sides,  but  here  and  there 
charming  trails  led  away  through  the  jungle  to  vil- 
lages on  higher  land;  a  delightful  region  to  pass 
through,  perhaps  to  live  in  if  one  were  a  duck,  but 
for  human  beings  the  steamy  heat  must  be  very  de- 
pressing. At  Yun  Bay  the  valley  narrowed,  and  we 
drew  nearer  the  mountains,  but  there  was  no  change 
in  the  atmosphere,  and  had  not  the  sky  been  cloudy, 
we  should  have  suffered  greatly  from  the  heat. 

My  fellow  travellers  were  chiefly  officials  of  the 
civil  administration  or  connected  with  the  railway, 
who  chatted  or  slept  or  quietly  drank  away  the  weary 
hours ;  for  them  there  was  no  novelty  in  the  trip  to 
dull  the  feeling  of  discomfort.  At  one  small  station  a 


ACROSS  TONKING  17 

man  who  might  have  been  a  planter  got  in,  followed 
by  an  attractive-looking  Annamese  woman  carrying 
a  little  child.  She  cried  bitterly  as  she  waved  good- 
bye to  a  group  of  natives  on  the  station  platform. 
The  man  seemed  well  known  on  the  line,  and  was 
soon  the  centre  of  a  group  of  his  fellows  who  paid  no 
attention  to  the  woman.  After  a  while  the  trio  went 
to  sleep,  the  man  on  the  carriage  bench,  the  woman 
and  child  on  the  floor.  She  was  what  is  euphemisti- 
cally called  a  "cook  "  in  Tonking ;  just  another  name 
for  an  arrangement  so  often  resulting  from  the  lonely 
life  of  Europeans  among  a  slack-fibred  dependent 
alien  population.  It  is  the  same  thing  that  confronts 
the  stray  visitor  to  the  isolated  tea  plantations  of 
the  Assam  hills,  where  young  English  lads  are  set 
down  by  themselves,  perhaps  a  day's  journey  from 
the  next  European.  What  wonder  that  they  find  it 
difficult  to  hold  fast  to  the  standards  and  principles 
of  the  home  that  seems  so  far  away,  or  that  if  they 
once  ignore  their  inherited  traditions,  no  matter  in 
how  slight  a  thing,  there  seems  to  be  no  natural  stop- 
ping-place short  of  the  abyss.  As  once  said  to  me  an 
aged  American  missionary,  who  perhaps  had  never 
worn  an  evening  coat  a  dozen  times  in  his  life,  "  A 
nice  young  fellow,  clean  in  body  and  soul,  comes  out 
from  England,  and  finds  himself  shut  up  for  the  year 
on  one  of  these  plantations,  no  one  of  his  kind  within 
reach.  He  means  well,  but  the  test  is  too  great.  First 


1 8  A  WAYFARER   IN   CHINA 

he  stops  dressing  for  dinner.  What's  the  use?  Then 
he  gets  careless  about  his  manners.  And  the  end  of 
it  all  is  black-and-tan  babies  in  the  compound."  Here 
in  Tonking  the  woman  is  perhaps  as  well  off  as  in 
her  native  hut  until  the  planter  goes  home  or  brings 
out  a  European  wife,  but  in  some  way  or  another 
there  is  usually  an  untoward  ending.  As  for  the  chil- 
dren, they  go  to  swell  the  class  that  is  neither  here 
nor  there,  and  their  lot  is  probably  happier  than  that 
of  the  unfortunate  Eurasians  of  India,  since  race  pre- 
judice is  far  less  strong  among  the  French  than  with 
the  Anglo-Saxon. 

At  Lao-kai  on  the  Tonking  frontier  I  stopped  over 
for  a  day's  rest,  having  learned  that  it  boasted  a  com- 
fortable European  inn.  The  little  town  is  built  on  the 
opposite  high  banks  of  the  Red  River  near  its  junc- 
tion with  the  Namti.  Just  across  the  latter  stream 
lie  China  and  the  Chinese  town  of  Ho-k'ou.  There  is 
a  distinct  European  aspect  to  Lao-kai,  and  as  a  fron- 
tier post  it  has  a  good-sized  garrison  of  the  Annamese 
Tirailleurs  and  the  French  Foreign  Legion.  The  lat- 
ter did  not  look  as  black  as  they  are  painted,  and  it 
was  hard  to  realize  that  behind  their  friendly,  courte- 
ous bearing  were  ruined  careers ;  but  the  contrast  of 
their  sturdy  forms  and  weather-beaten  faces  with  the 
slender  figures  and  delicate  features  of  the  Tirailleurs 
was  very  striking.  I  did  not  wonder  that  the  French 
soldiers  have  dubbed  their  Annamese  companions-in- 


ACROSS  TONKING  19 

arms  the  "  Young  Ladies."  The  inn,  which  was  most 
efficiently  managed  by  two  Frenchwomen,  served  as 
a  sort  of  club  for  the  Europeans  of  both  Lao-kai  and 
Ho-k'ou,  and  incidentally  also  for  innumerable  dogs 
and  cats.  At  dinner  each  person  was  the  centre  of  an 
expectant  group  of  the  four-footed  habitues  of  the  inn, 
and  no  one  seemed  to  object.  Just  another  instance 
of  the  liking  of  the  most  civilized  peoples  of  the  West 
and  the  East,  English,  French,  and  Chinese,  for  pet 
animals. 

A  small  church  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river 
showed  white  among  the  bamboos,  and  in  the  early 
evening  the  bells  rang  with  a  homelike  sound.  Cross- 
ing by  the  ferry  I  found  the  place  empty  save  for 
two  Annamese  soldiers  kneeling  quietly  and  rever- 
ently. In  going  back  and  forth  on  the  ferry-boat  as  I 
did  several  times,  I  had  a  chance  to  observe  the 
people.  As  in  the  case  of  the  Burmans  the  difference 
between  men  and  women  is  not  marked ;  indeed, 
among  the  younger  ones  it  is  often  difficult  to  tell 
them  apart.  The  great  palm-leaf  hat  generally  worn 
took  me  back  to  hot  Sunday  afternoons  in  an  old 
church  in  the  Berkshire  hills  of  Massachusetts,  when 
my  restless  little  mind  busied  itself  with  wondering 
what  palm  leaves  looked  like  when  they  were  not  fans. 
I  now  had  a  chance  to  see,  for  I  was  in  the  land  of 
palms,  and  the  church-going  fans  of  my  childhood 
seemed  to  have  transformed  themselves  into  a  uni- 


20  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

versal  headgear.  In  shape  the  Annamese  hat  resem- 
bles a  tea-tray  with  edges  three  inches  deep,  and  of 
the  size  of  a  bicycle  wheel.  In  addition  to  the  band 
passing  under  the  chin  a  small  crown  fits  the  head 
snugly,  and  helps  to  keep  the  huge  thing  in  place. 
Primarily  it  is  a  head-covering,  a  protection  against 
sun  or  rain,  but  incidentally  it  serves  as  a  windbreak, 
a  basket-cover,  a  tray,  or  a  cradle.  Often  French 
soldiers  crossed  with  me,  and  I  noticed  that  they  usu- 
ally spoke  Annamese  fluently,  unlike  Tommy  Atkins 
in  India,  who  rarely  knows  a  word  of  the  vernacular; 
also  they  seemed  to  be  on  a  friendly,  not  to  say  fam- 
iliar footing  with  the  natives. 

After  a  comfortable  week-end's  rest,  I  left  Lao-kai  in 
the  early  morning,  helped  on  my  journey  by  those 
courtesies  that  so  often  in  strange  lands  convince  one 
that "  less  than  kin  more  than  kind  "  quite  understates 
the  truth.  An  Italian  on  his  way  down  the  river  wired 
the  landlord  of  the  best  inn  in  Yunnan-fu  of  my  com- 
ing, that  I  might  be  properly  met.  That  I  had  already 
done  so  myself  did  not  at  all  take  from  his  kind 
thoughtfulness.  Still  another  Italian  of  the  Chinese 
customs  service  joined  me  as  we  left  Lao-kai,  having 
come  over  from  Ho-k'ou  to  escort  me  across  the  fron- 
tier, that  I  might  have  no  bother  with  my  luggage. 
Yet  another  of  these  kind  strangers  wired  ahead  to 
warn  the  solitary  American  on  the  line  of  my  com- 
ing, thus  giving  the  two  compatriots  a  chance  to  ex- 


ACROSS  TONKING  21 

change  a  few  words  at  the  station  as  the  train  went 
through. 

On  leaving  Lao-kai  our  way  led  up  the  valley  of 
the  Namti,  a  small  mountain  river  coming  in  from  the 
east.  The  scenery  was  now  much  wilder,  and  as  we 
rose  to  higher  levels  the  vegetation  changed,  the  path- 
less jungle  which  comes  up  to  the  very  doors  of  Lao-kai 
gave  way  to  sparsely  covered  grass  slopes,  and  they 
in  turn  to  barren,  rocky  walls.  It  was  here  that  the 
French  engineers  encountered  their  most  difficult  pro- 
blems. We  wound  up  the  narrow  valley  in  splendid 
loops  and  curves,  turning  upon  our  tracks,  running 
through  numerous  tunnels,  and  at  one  time  crossing 
a  chasm  so  narrow  and  with  sides  so  steep  and  pre- 
cipitous that  it  was  found  necessary  to  build  the  bridge 
in  two  parts,  each  against  the  face  of  the  cliff,  and 
then  gradually  lower  them  until  they  met  above  the 
river,  three  hundred  and  fifty  feet  below.  Finally  by 
an  almost  intolerable  gradient  we  topped  the  divide 
and  found  ourselves  overlooking  a  wonderful,  well- 
watered  plain  five  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  and 
cultivated  as  far  as  the  vision  could  carry  with  the 
care  and  precision  of  a  market-garden. 

That  night  I  spent  at  A-Mi-chou  in  a  semi-Chinese 
inn.  The  cooking  was  good,  and,  thanks  to  the 
thoughtfulness  of  a  railway  official  who  wired  ahead, 
I  had  one  of  the  two  good  rooms  of  the  house,  the 
others  being  given  over  to  rats.  This  was  truly  China, 


22  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

and  the  European  railway  with  its  Frenchified  trains 
and  stations  seemed  indeed  an  invasion,  a  world 
apart.  The  French  officials  apparently  shared  this 
feeling,  and  had  a  nice  way  of  regarding  themselves 
as  your  hosts  and  protectors. 

All  the  next  day  we  were  crossing  the  great  plateau 
of  Yunnan,  now  climbing  a  pass  in  the  mountain- 
ranges  that  tower  above  the  level,  now  making  our 
way  up  a  narrow  rocky  valley,  the  gray  limestone 
cliffs  gay  with  bright  blue  flowers  and  pink  blossom- 
ing shrubs.  Just  what  they  were  I  could  not  tell  as 
the  train  rolled  by.  Mostly  the  road  led  through  long 
stretches  of  tiny  garden-like  fields,  broken  here  and 
there  by  prosperous  looking  villages  half  concealed 
in  bamboo  groves.  The  scenery  was  very  fine  and 
varied ;  above,  the  rocky  hills,  below,  the  green  val- 
leys. The  mingling,  too,  of  tropical  and  temperate 
vegetation  was  striking.  We  were  in  latitude  24°  and 
25°,  about  the  same  as  Calcutta,  but  at  an  elevation 
of  nearly  seven  thousand  feet,  and  the  combination 
seemed  to  work  confusion  among  the  growing  things, 
for  rice  and  wheat  were  found  not  far  apart,  and  here 
at  last  Heine's  palm  and  pine  had  come  together. 

Late  on  the  second  afternoon  after  leaving  Lao-kai 
we  were  approaching  Yunnan-fu.  Seen  across  the 
plain,  the  capital  of  the  province  looked  very  imposing 
as  it  lay  stretched  along  a  low  ridge  running  east  and 
west.  Rice-fields  interspersed  with  ruins,  sad  re- 


ACROSS  TONKING  23 

minders  of  the  terrible  Mohammedan  rebellion  of  a 
generation  ago,  crowd  up  to  the  very  walls  on  the 
near  side  of  the  town.  Outside  the  South  Gate  is 
the  station,  and  not  far  distant  the  Chinese  house 
which  an  enterprising  French  couple  had  turned  into 
a  very  comfortable  inn,  where  I  stayed  the  three 
days  needed  for  arranging  my  caravan  and  seeing 
the  sights  of  the  place. 


CHAPTER  II 

DAYS   IN   YUNNAN-FU 

THE  situation  of  Yunnan's  capital  is  extraordi- 
narily picturesque.  It  stands  in  a  wide  plain, 
its  northern  wall  running  along  a  low  rocky  ridge 
from  which  there  is  a  charming  view  over  city  and 
lake  to  the  great  mountains  that  skirt  the  plain  on  all 
sides.  Lying  at  an  elevation  of  nearly  seven  thousand 
feet,  it  is  blessed  with  a  white  man's  climate.  Eighty- 
five  degrees  in  the  shade  marks  the  highest  sum- 
mer temperature,  and  the  winters  are  just  pleasantly 
bracing.  Europeans  who  have  experienced  the  biting 
winds  of  Peking,  the  damp  heat  of  Canton,  or  the 
gray  skies  of  Chengtu  find  in  the  bright  days  and 
cool  breezes  of  Yunnan  some  mitigation  of  their  exile 
to  this  remote  corner  of  the  empire.  The  city  itself  is 
not  very  attractive  in  spite  of  its  many  trees,  for  it 
seems  a  network  of  narrow  lanes,  only  broken  here 
and  there  by  a  temple  enclosure  or  a  stretch  of  waste 
land,  the  whole  shut  in  by  sound  thirty-foot  high 
walls ;  nor  are  there  any  sights  of  special  interest,  with 
the  exception  of  a  rather  fine  Confucian  temple.  But 
the  country  roundabout  affords  many  charming  ex- 
cursions. The  waters  of  the  lake,  some  twenty-three 


DAYS   IN  YUNNAN-FU  25 

miles  in  length,  once  perhaps  washed  the  west  wall, 
but  it  is  gradually  silting  up,  and  to-day  it  is  five 
miles  away  and  is  reached  by  heavy  sampans  which 
ply  the  narrow  canals  that  intersect  the  rice-fields. 
Farm  buildings,  tea-houses,  and  temples  buried  in 
groves  of  bamboo  are  dotted  over  the  plain,  which  is 
crossed  at  intervals  by  high,  stone-paved  dykes  lined 
with  trees.  The  rich  cultivation  of  the  lowland  is  in 
sharp  contrast  with  the  surrounding  hills,  bare  and 
barren  save  where  the  presence  of  a  temple  has  pre- 
served the  forest. 

Yunnan-fu,  with  a  population  of  some  eighty 
thousand,  seems  a  fairly  prosperous  town.  Copper  is 
found  on  the  neighbouring  hills,  and  the  metal-work 
of  the  place  is  famous,  although  by  law  all  copper 
mined  must  be  sent  to  Peking.  But  the  importance 
of  the  city  depends  mainly  upon  its  trade.  It  is  the 
centre  of  a  large  though  rather  scantily  populated 
district  abounding  in  the  great  staples,  rice,  beans, 
and  millet,  as  well  as  in  fruit  and  vegetables.  Form- 
erly Yunnan  stood  in  the  forefront  of  opium-produc- 
ing provinces,  but  when  I  was  there  not  a  poppy-field 
was  to  be  seen.  The  last  viceroy,  the  much  respected 
Hsi  Liang,  the  one  Mongol  in  the  Chinese  service, 
himself  not  an  opium  smoker,  had  shown  great 
determination  in  carrying  out  the  imperial  edicts 
against  its  use  or  production,  and  rather  unwillingly 
Yunnan  was  brought  into  line  with  the  new  order. 


26  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

Under  his  successor,  Li  Ching  Hsi,  a  man  known  to 
be  given  over  to  the  use  of  the  drug,  unwilling  con- 
verts hoped  for  better  days,  only  to  be  disappointed. 
After  a  more  or  less  serious  effort  to  reform,  he  an- 
nounced that  he  was  too  old  to  change,  but  the  pro- 
vince had  a  long  life  before  it,  and  must  obey  the 
law.  So  he  made  amends  for  his  own  short-comings 
by  enforcing  the  restrictions  almost  as  vigorously  as 
his  predecessor  had  done.  What  was  true  at  that 
time  in  Yunnan  was  also  the  case  in  Szechuan. 
Although  always  on  the  watch  for  the  poppy,  nowhere 
did  I  see  it  cultivated.  Probably  in  remote  valleys  off 
the  regular  trails  a  stray  field  might  now  and  then 
have  been  found,  innocently  or  intentionally  over- 
looked by  the  inspector,  but  in  the  main  poppy-grow- 
ing had  really  been  stamped  out ;  and  this  where  a 
generation  ago  that  careful  observer,  Baber,  estimated 
that  poppy-fields  constituted  a  third  of  the  whole 
cultivation.  Credit  where  credit  is  due.  Manchu  rule 
may  have  been  weak  and  corrupt,  but  at  least  in  re- 
spect of  one  great  popular  vice  it  achieved  more  than 
any  Western  power  ever  thought  of  attempting. 
Certainly  not  last  among  the  causes  for  its  overthrow 
was  the  discontent  aroused  by  its  anti-opium  policy. 
And  now  it  is  reported  that  individualism  run  mad 
among  the  revolutionary  leaders  has  led  to  a  slack- 
ening in  the  enforcement  of  the  rules,  and  the  revival 
of  poppy  cultivation. 


DAYS   IN   YUNNAN-FU  27 

For  half  a  century  Yunnan  has  known  little  peace. 
Twenty  years  long  the  terrible  Mohammedan  rebel- 
lion raged,  and  the  unhappy  province  was  swept  from 
end  to  end  with  fire  and  sword.  Marks  of  the  devas- 
tation of  that  time  are  everywhere  visible.  Hardly 
had  it  been  put  down  when  the  war  with  the  French 
in  the  eighties  again  involved  Yunnan.  Later  came 
the  outbreak  of  the  tribesmen,  while  the  Boxer  move- 
ment of  the  north  found  a  vigorous  response  here. 
Bloodshed  and  disorder  have  given  the  country  a 
set-back  from  which  it  is  only  beginning  to  recover. 

But  the  coming  of  the  railway  has  brought  fresh 
life  to  Yunnan,  and  the  prospects  for  the  future  eco- 
nomic development  are  very  promising.  In  the  capital 
there  were  many  signs  of  a  new  day.  The  Reform 
movement  had  taken  good  hold  in  this  remote  corner 
of  the  empire.  A  hospital  with  eight  wards  and  under 
Chinese  control  was  doing  fine  work.  Schools  were 
flourishing,  and  there  was  even  a  university  of  sorts. 
The  newly  organized  police  force  pervaded  the  whole 
place  and  was  reputed  quite  efficient.  But  it  was  the 
new  military  spirit  that  most  forced  itself  upon  you  ; 
you  simply  could  not  get  away  from  it.  Bugle  prac- 
tice made  hideous  night  and  day.  Everywhere  you 
met  marching  soldiers,  and  the  great  drill  ground  was 
the  most  active  place  in  the  town.  Dread  of  the  for- 
eigner underlies  much  of  the  present  activity  and 
openmindedness  towards  Western  ideas.  The  will- 


28  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

ingness  to  adopt  our  ways  does  not  necessarily  mean 
that  the  Chinese  prefer  them  to  their  own,  but  simply 
that  they  realize  if  they  would  meet  us  on  equal  terms 
they  must  meet  us  with  our  own  weapons.  Writing 
of  the  Boxer  rising,  Sir  Charles  Eliot  summed  up  the 
Chinese  position  in  a  sentence,  "  Let  us  learn  their 
tricks  before  we  make  an  end  of  them."  Now  it  might 
read,  "  Let  us  learn  their  tricks  before  they  make  an 
end  of  us."  The  drilling  soldiers,  the  modern  bar- 
racks, the  elaborately  equipped  arsenals,  as  well  as 
the  military  schools  found  all  over  China  to-day, 
show  which  one  of  the  Western  "  tricks  "  seems  to 
the  man  of  the  Middle  Kingdom  of  most  immediate 
value.  At  the  military  school  of  Yunnan-fu  they  have 
a  graphic  way  of  enforcing  the  lesson  to  be  learned. 
A  short  time  ago  the  students  gave  a  public  dramatic 
performance,  a  sort  of  thing  for  which  the  Chinese 
have  decided  talent.  One  of  the  scenes  showed  an 
Englishman  kicking  his  Hindu  servant,  while  another 
represented  an  Annamese  undergoing  a  beating  at 
the  hands  of  a  Frenchman.  The  teaching  was  plain. 
"  This  will  be  your  fate  unless  you  are  strong  to  re- 
sist." The  English  and  French  consuls  protested 
formally,  and  the  proper  apologies  were  made,  but 
no  one  believes  that  the  lesson  was  forgotten. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  people  of 
Yunnan  are  alive  to  the  danger  of  foreign  interfer- 
ence, for  they  see  the  British  on  the  west  and  much 


DAYS  IN   YUNNAN-FU  29 

more  the  French  on  the  south,  peering  with  greedy 
eyes  and  clutching  hands  over  the  border.  In  the 
last  fifteen  years  commissions  of  the  one  and  the 
other  have  scoured  the  province  with  scarcely  so 
much  as  "by  your  leave,"  investigating  the  mineral 
resources  and  planning  out  practicable  railway  routes. 
Within  the  capital  city  the  French  seem  entrenched. 
A  French  post-office,  a  French  hospital,  French  shops, 
hotels,  missions,  and  above  all  the  huge  consulate, 
are  there  like  advance  posts  of  a  greater  invasion. 
There  is  an  ominous  look  to  these  pretentious  estab- 
lishments holding  strategic  points  in  this  or  that  de- 
batable territory.  Take  the  French  consulates,  here  in 
Yunnan-fu  and  in  Hoi-hou,  or  the  Russian  in  Urga, 
the  North  Mongolian  capital,  they  have  more  the  aspect 
of  a  fortified  outpost  in  a  hostile  country  than  the  resi- 
dence of  the  peaceful  representative  of  a  friendly  power. 
And  Yunnan  is  beginning  to  move.  For  some  time 
past  the  Government  has  been  considering  seriously 
the  project  of  a  railway  across  the  province  on  the  east 
to  the  Si  Kiang  and  Canton,  and  just  before  I  arrived 
in  Yunnan-fu  two  engineers  (significantly  enough 
Americans)  started  northwards  to  make  the  prelimi- 
nary surveys  for  a  line  connecting  the  capital  with 
the  Yangtse.  If  these  two  schemes  can  be  carried 
through  under  Chinese  control,  good-by  to  the  hopes 
of  the  French.  Just  at  the  time  that  I  was  in  Yunnan 
there  was  much  excitement  over  the  Pien-ma  matter, 


30  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

a  boundary  question  between  the  province  and 
Burma.  A  boycott  of  British  goods  had  been  started 
which  would  have  been  more  effective  if  there  had 
been  more  goods  to  boycott,  but  it  indicated  the  feel- 
ing of  the  people,  and  the  viceroy,  Li  Ching  Hsi,  was 
winning  golden  opinions  for  the  stand  he  took  in  the 
matter,  which,  however,  did  not  save  him  from  igno- 
minious deportation  by  the  Revolutionary  party  only 
a  few  months  later. 

But  whatever  the  feeling  towards  foreigners  in  the 
mass,  the  individual  foreigner  seemed  to  meet  with 
no  unfriendliness  on  the  part  of  the  people  in  Yunnan- 
fu,  and  apparently  official  relations  were  on  a  cordial 
footing.  I  found  the  Bureau  of  Foreign  Affairs  ready 
to  do  all  it  could  to  smooth  my  way  across  Yunnan, 
but  perhaps  that  was  due  in  part  to  the  fact  that  the 
chief  of  the  bureau  had  been  for  several  years  consul 
in  New  York.  By  arrangement  I  called  one  afternoon, 
in  company  with  a  missionary  lady,  upon  his  wife. 
Threading  our  way  through  narrow,  winding  streets, 
our  chairs  turned  in  at  an  inconspicuous  doorway  and 
we  found  ourselves  in  a  large  compound,  containing 
not  so  much  one  house  as  a  number  of  houses  set 
down  among  gay  gardens.  The  building  in  which  we 
were  received  consisted  apparently  of  two  rooms,  an 
anteroom  and  a  reception  room.  The  latter  was  fur- 
nished in  the  usual  style  (invariable,  it  seems  to  me, 
from  country  inn  to  prince's  palace),  heavy  high 


DAYS  IN  YUNNAN-FU  31 

chairs,  heavy  high  tables  ranged  against  walls  deco- 
rated with  kakemonos  and  gay  mottoes ;  only  in  the 
centre  of  the  room  was  a  large  table  covered  with  a 
cloth  of  European  manufacture  on  which  were  set  out 
dishes  of  English  biscuits  and  sweets.  Our  hostess, 
dressed  in  a  modified  Chinese  costume,  received  us 
with  graceful  dignity.  Her  fine-featured  face  bore  a 
marked  likeness  to  many  that  one  meets  on  the  street 
or  in  the  church  of  an  old  New  England  town,  and 
its  rather  anxious  expression  somewhat  emphasized 
the  resemblance.  She  spoke  with  much  pleasure  of 
the  years  she  had  spent  in  America,  and  her  daugh- 
ter, who  had  been  educated  in  a  well-known  private 
school  in  New  York,  looked  back  longingly  to  those 
days,  complaining  that  there  was  no  society  in  Yun- 
nan-fu ;  but  she  brightened  up  at  a  reference  to  the 
arrival  of  a  new  and  young  English  vice-consul,  hop- 
ing that  it  might  mean  some  tennis.  It  was  an  unex- 
pected touch  of  New  China  in  this  out-of-the-way 
corner.  Before  we  left,  two  younger  children  were 
brought  in,  both  born  in  America,  and  one  bearing 
the  name  " Daisy,"  the  other  "Lincoln,"  but  already 
they  were  forgetting  their  English. 

During  my  three  days  in  Yunnan-fu,1  through  the 

1  The  words  "  f u  "  and  "chou"  and  "hsien,"  attached  to  so 
many  Chinese  place-names,  are  terms  denoting  administrative  divi- 
sions. "  Fu  "  maybe  translated  prefecture,  "chou,"  department, 
and  "hsien,"  a  district.  The  towns  having  these  terminations  are 
the  headquarters  of  the  respective  divisions. 


32  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

kindness  of  the  British  Consul-General  I  was  given 
a  chance  to  make  one  or  two  excursions  into  the  sur- 
rounding country.  An  especially  charming  trip  that 
we  took  one  afternoon  was  to  Chin  Tien,  or  "  Golden 
Temple,"  a  celebrated  copper  temple  about  five  miles 
out.  Near  the  town  our  chairs  were  borne  along  the 
narrow  earth  balk  between  the  bean-  and  rice-fields, 
but  farther  on  our  way  led  over  the  top  of  a  high  dyke 
lined  with  trees.  We  mounted  by  a  charming  wind- 
ing road  to  the  temple,  set  high  on  the  hillside  among 
its  own  groves  of  conifers,  the  courts  of  the  temple, 
which  rose  one  behind  the  other,  being  connected  by 
long,  steep  flights  of  steps.  In  the  upper  court  we 
were  met  by  the  friendly  priests,  the  quiet  dignity  of 
their  reception  being  somewhat  disturbed  by  the  din 
of  the  temple  dogs,  goaded  almost  to  madness  at 
Jack's  imperturbable  bearing.  Chinese  temples  rarely 
offer  much  of  interest ;  the  construction  is  usually  sim- 
ple and  their  treasures  are  few,  but  everything  is  freely 
shown,  there  are  no  dark  corners,  and  the  spacious 
courts  gay  with  flowers  are  full  of  charm.  The  sacred 
images  which  they  contain  are  generally  grotesque 
or  hideous.  Not  often  does  one  show  a  trace  of  the 
gracious  serenity  that  marks  the  traditional  represen- 
tations of  Buddha ;  on  the  other  hand,  they  are  never 
indecent. 

While  I  was  seeing  a  little  of  Yunnan-fu  and  its 
people,  the  preparations  for  my  overland  trip  were 


MY   SEDAN   CHAIR   AND   BEARERS 


A  MEMORIAL  ARCH   NEAR  YUNNAN-FU 


DAYS  IN   YUNNAN-FU  33 

moving  forward,  thanks  chiefly  to  the  kind  helpful- 
ness of  Mr.  Stevenson,  of  the  China  Inland  Mission. 
For  many  years  a  resident  of  the  province,  and  wise 
in  the  ways  of  the  country  and  of  the  country-folk, 
his  advice  served  me  at  every  turn.  Engaging  the 
coolies  was  of  course  the  matter  of  chief  importance. 
On  them  would  depend  the  success  of  the  first  stage 
of  my  journey,  the  two  and  a  half  or  three  weeks' 
trip  to  Ning-yiian-fu  in  the  Chien-ch'ang  valley.  A 
representative  of  the  coolie  "hong,"  or  guild,  a  dig- 
nified, substantial-looking  man,  was  brought  to  the 
inn  by  Mr.  Stevenson.  After  looking  over  my  kit 
carefully  (even  the  dog  was  "  hefted  "  on  the  chance 
he  might  have  to  ride  at  times),  he  decided  the  num- 
ber of  coolies  necessary.  As  I  wished  to  travel  fast  if 
need  came,  I  threw  in  another  man  that  the  loads 
might  be  light.  The  average  load  is  seventy  or  eighty 
catties,  a  catty  equalling  about  one  pound  and  a  quar- 
ter. In  Yunnan  the  coolies  generally  carry  on  the 
shoulder,  the  burden,  fairly  divided,  being  suspended 
from  the  two  ends  of  a  bamboo  pole.  For  myself  I 
had  four  men,  as  I  had  a  four-bearer  chair,  the  grand- 
est of  all  things  on  the  road  save  the  mandarin's 
chair  with  its  curved  poles  raising  the  occupant  high 
above  the  common  herd.  At  first  I  did  not  realize  the 
significance  of  the  number,  although  I  marked  the 
interest  with  which  my  interpreter  inquired  how  many 
bearers  I  should  have.  What  I  did  appreciate  was 


34  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

the  extreme  comfort  of  my  travelling  arrangements. 
Seated  in  my  chair,  which  was  open  above  and  en- 
closed below,  and  furnished  with  a  water-proof  top 
and  with  curtains  that  could  be  lowered  to  protect 
me  against  sun  or  rain,  wind  or  importunate  curi- 
osity, I  felt  as  though  on  a  throne.  Under  the  seat 
was  a  compartment  just  large  enough  for  dressing- 
bag,  camera,  and  thermos  bottle,  while  at  my  feet 
there  was  ample  room  for  Jack.  For  my  interpreter 
there  was  a  two-bearer  chair,  with  which  he  was  vastly 
discontented,  and  I,  too,  had  my  doubts  about  it,  al- 
though our  reasons  were  not  the  same.  He  felt  it  be- 
neath his  dignity  to  travel  with  two  bearers  only ;  I 
feared  that  it  was  too  great  a  burden  for  two  men, 
even  though  the  chair  was  light  and  the  Chinese  lit- 
eratus,  small-boned  and  lacking  in  muscle,  is  no  heavy 
burden.  Anyway,  the  arrangement  did  not  work  well, 
and  at  Ning-yiian-fu  the  interpreter  was  provided 
with  a  closed  chair  and  three  bearers,  to  his  own  sat- 
isfaction and  to  mine  also,  again  for  different  reasons. 
A  sedan-chair  is  too  luxurious  to  be  long  endurable, 
so  I  added  a  pony  to  our  caravan,  purchased,  from  a 
home-going  Dane  of  the  customs  service,  for  forty- 
four  dollars  Mexican.  The  Yunnanese  ponies  are 
small  and  sturdy,  and  as  active  as  cats.  They  are  all 
warranted  to  kick,  and  mine  was  no  exception.  Al- 
though he  was  described  as  a  gentleman's  steed,  he 
had  the  manners  of  a  pack-horse.  I  doubt  if  any  one 


DAYS  IN  YUNNAN-FU  35 

of  our  party  escaped  the  touch  of  his  hoofs,  and  it 
was  a  joy  to  see  him  exchange  salutations  with  the 
ponies  we  met  on  the  trail.  However,  he  was  sure- 
footed and  willing,  and  although  hardly  up  to  so  long 
a  trip  as  mine,  yet  with  care  he  came  out  very  well 
at  the  end.  But  it  required  constant  watchfulness  to 
make  sure  that  he  was  properly  watered  and  fed,  even 
though  most  of  the  time  I  took  along  a  coolie  for  no 
other  purpose  save  to  look  after  the  horse,  and  lead 
him  when  I  was  not  riding.  And  to  the  very  last  it 
meant  an  order  each  time  to  insure  that  the  girths 
were  loosened  and  the  stirrups  tied  up  when  I  was 
out  of  the  saddle.  When  we  started  from  Yunnan-fu 
our  caravan  was  made  up  of  thirteen  coolies,  —  six 
chair-men,  six  baggage-carriers,  and  a  "  fu  t'ou,"  or 
head  coolie,  whose  duty  it  was  to  keep  the  others  up 
to  their  work,  to  settle  disputes,  or  to  meet  any  diffi- 
culty that  arose.  In  short,  he  was  responsible  both  to 
me  and  to  the  hong  for  the  carrying-out  of  the  con- 
tract which  had  been  duly  agreed  upon.  In  my  lim- 
ited experience,  the  fu  t'ou  is  a  great  blessing.  I 
found  mine  capable,  reliable  men,  adroit  in  smooth- 
ing away  difficulties  and  very  ready  to  meet  my 
wishes.  As  for  the  contract,  that  was  a  serious  mat- 
ter. Each  detail  was  carefully  entered  in  a  formidable 
document,  the  route,  the  stages,  the  number  of  men, 
the  amount  to  be  paid,  and  the  how  and  where  of 
payment.  The  hong  had  one  copy  and  I  another 


36  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

which  was  handed  over  to  the  fu  t'ou  at  the  end  of 
the  trip,  that  he  might  show  it  to  the  chief  of  the  hong 
as  proof  that  he  had  carried  out  the  contract  Each 
coolie  was  to  receive  $7.00  Mexican,  or  about  $3.50 
gold,  for  his  journey  from  Yunnan-fu  to  Ning-yiian-fu, 
reckoned  usually  as  sixteen  stages.  About  one  third 
the  amount  was  to  be  paid  before  starting,  the  re- 
mainder in  specified  sums  at  stated  intervals  en 
route.  I  had  no  concern  with  the  men's  daily  food, 
but  from  time  to  time  I  was  expected  to  give  them 
"pork  money"  if  they  behaved  well.  It  would  have 
been  cheaper,  I  believe,  to  have  hired  coolies  off  the 
street,  but  far  less  satisfactory,  for  the  hong  holds 
itself  responsible  to  you  for  the  behavior  of  its  men. 
And  in  their  turn  the  coolies  pay  a  definite  percent- 
age of  their  earnings  to  the  hong. 

My  stores  and  bedding  and  other  things  were 
packed  in  large  covered  baskets  insecurely  fastened 
with  padlocks.  As  time  went  on,  covers  became 
loose  and  padlocks  were  knocked  off  by  projecting 
rocks,  but  nothing  was  ever  lost  or  stolen.  To  keep 
out  wet  or  vermin  I  had  the  baskets  lined  with 
Chinese  oiled  cotton,  perishable  but  cheap,  and  ef- 
fective as  long  as  it  lasts.  Other  sheets  of  the  same 
material  were  provided  for  use  in  the  inn.  One  was 
laid  on  the  floor  and  my  camp-bed  set  up  in  the 
middle  of  it,  while  others  were  spread  over  the 
wooden  Chinese  beds  with  which  the  room  was  gen- 


DAYS   IN  YUNNAN-FU  37 

erally  well  supplied,  and  on  them  my  clothes,  saddle, 
etc.,  were  placed.  When  new  the  oiled  cotton  has  a 
strong,  pungent  odour,  not  pleasant  but  very  effective 
against  vermin. 

A  most  important  item  was  the  money  to  be  used 
on  the  journey.  I  had  an  account  with  the  Hong 
Kong  and  Shanghai  Bank  at  Shanghai,  and  wher- 
ever there  were  Europeans  it  was  possible  to  get 
checks  cashed,  but  from  Yunnan-fu  to  Ning-yuan,  a 
journey  of  two  and  a  half  weeks  or  more,  I  should 
be  quite  off  the  track  of  foreigners.  Fortunately  Yun- 
nan is  waking  up  in  money  matters  as  well  as  in 
other  ways,  and  has  a  silver  coinage  of  its  own ; 
moreover,  one  that  the  inhabitants  are  willing  to  ac- 
cept, which  is  not  always  the  case,  as  I  found  later  to 
my  cost.  With  the  help  of  native  bankers  I  was  duly 
furnished  with  a  supply  of  Yunnan  dollars,  akin  to 
Mexican  dollars  in  value,  and  I  obtained  also  some 
Szechuan  coins  to  use  when  I  entered  that  province. 
In  addition  I  became  the  proud  possessor  of  some 
seventy  dollars  in  Hupeh  money.  This  I  was  told 
would  pass  anywhere  after  crossing  the  Yangtse. 
When  I  reached  Ning-yiian-fu,  however,  I  found  that 
no  one  would  take  it  save  at  a  heavy  discount.  Un- 
willing to  burden  myself  with  it  longer,  I  decided  to 
let  the  Chinese  bankers  have  it,  even  though  at  a 
loss,  but  when  they  discovered  that  the  money  was  in 
twenty-cent  pieces  they  would  have  nothing  to  do 


38  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

with  it  at  any  price.  So  I  carried  it  some  two  thousand 
miles  farther,  to  Hupeh  itself.  But  even  there  it  was 
not  willingly  accepted.  In  the  railway  offices  at  Han- 
kow not  more  than  forty  cents  would  be  received  in 
small  coins.  If  your  ticket  cost  $10.50,  you  paid  for 
it  in  unbroken  dollars,  giving  the  railway  a  chance  to 
unload  some  of  the  undesirable  change  upon  you.  In 
the  end  I  found  myself  reduced  to  peddling  twenty- 
cent  pieces  among  friends  and  friends  of  friends. 
For  small  change  on  my  journey  I  carried  rolls  of 
copper  cents,  while  the  cook  festooned  himself  with 
long  ropes  of  copper  "cash,"  about  twenty  to  the 
American  cent. 

By  the  arrangement  of  the  Foreign  Office  two 
soldiers  were  detailed  to  escort  me  across  Yunnan. 
It  is  by  the  wish  of  the  officials  rather  than  at  the 
traveller's  request  that  this  escort  is  given.  The 
Chinese  have  learned  through  an  experience  not 
wholly  to  our  credit  that  injury  or  even  annoyance  to 
the  European  may  bring  a  punishment  quite  out  of 
proportion  to  the  harm  done  ;  so  to  avoid  difficulties 
the  official  is  inclined  to  insist  upon  sending  soldiers 
with  the  foreigners  passing  through  his  district,  and 
the  traveller  as  a  rule  perforce  accepts  the  arrange- 
ment. If  he  refuses,  he  will  find  it  more  difficult  to 
secure  redress  for  any  loss  or  in  jury  suffered.  For  my 
part  I  did  not  feel  inclined  to  object.  The  expense  is 
borne  by  the  Government,  save  for  the  customary 


DAYS  IN  YUNNAN-FU  39 

tip,  and  in  more  ways  than  one  I  found  my  escort 
useful.  At  irregular  intervals  they  were  changed. 
When  we  reached  the  end  of  the  last  stage  for  which 
they  were  detailed,  I  gave  them  my  card  to  carry  to 
the  proper  local  official.  This  was  replied  to  by  send- 
ing a  new  pair  bearing  the  official's  card. 

Some  of  the  men  were  old-time  soldiers,  hardly  to 
be  distinguished  from  yamen  runners  in  their  untidy 
black  and  scarlet  jackets  decorated  with  bold  letter- 
ing on  the  back ;  and  their  weapons  consisted  simply 
of  something  that  might  be  described  as  a  small 
sword  or  a  huge  carving-knife  in  a  leather  sheath. 
After  entering  Szechuan  I  was  usually  accompanied 
by  quite  real  soldiers,  men  of  the  new  service,  fairly 
shipshape  in  khaki  and  putties  and  carrying  up-to- 
date  guns.  But  whether  of  the  old  order  or  of  the 
new,  I  found  the  men  at  all  times  very  courteous  and 
friendly,  and  ready  to  do  any  little  service  that  came 
their  way.  It  was  the  duty  of  one  man  to  stay  with 
me,  while  the  other  looked  after  the  baggage  coolies. 
As  more  at  home  in  the  particular  district  through 
which  we  were  passing,  they  were  often  very  helpful  to 
my  coolies  in  pointing  out  a  short  cut  or  in  finding 
our  intricate  way  across  the  fields.  Sometimes  one 
was  sent  in  advance  to  make  sure  of  the  best  quar- 
ters the  village  where  we  were  to  pass  the  night  could 
afford,  and  they  often  showed  great  zeal  in  tidying 
up  the  room  for  my  coming.  The  preparations  con- 


40  A  WAYFARER   IN   CHINA 


sisted  usually  in  stirring  up  the  dust  of  ages  on  the 
floor,  a  proceeding  I  did  not  like,  and  in  ruthlessly 
tearing  out  the  paper  that  covered  the  lattice  open- 
ing, of  which  I  much  approved.  Glass  is  rarely  seen 
in  West  China,  and  the  paper  excluded  both  light 
and  air,  but  never  the  gaze  of  the  curious,  as  a  peep- 
hole was  very  easily  punched.  On  the  march  my  es- 
cort, quick  to  notice  my  interest  in  the  flowers,  were 
active  in  bringing  me  huge  nosegays  gathered  along 
the  trail,  so  that  my  chair  was  often  turned  into  a  gay 
flowery  bower ;  and  they  sometimes  showed  their 
love  for  dogs,  or  perhaps  sought  to  prove  their  zeal 
hi  my  service,  by  picking  up  Jack  and  carrying  him 
for  the  half-hour,  to  his  great  disgust,  as  his  sturdy 
legs  were  untiring,  and  equally  so  was  his  desire  to 
investigate  every  nook  and  corner.  "  Little  fu  t'ou," 
the  coolies  called  him,  because  of  the  careful  watch 
he  kept  for  any  stragglers  of  the  caravan. 


CHAPTER  III 

ACROSS  YUNNAN 

MY  departure  was  set  for  the  8th  of  April,  and 
by  half-past  four  of  that  morning  the  coolies, 
marshalled  by  the  hong  man,  were  at  the  door ;  but  it 
was  after  nine  before  we  were  really  under  way.  It  is 
always  a  triumphant  moment  when  one's  caravan 
actually  starts ;  there  have  been  so  many  times  when 
starting  at  all  seemed  doubtful.  Mine  looked  quite 
imposing  as  it  moved  off,  headed  by  Mr.  Stevenson 
on  his  sturdy  pony,  I  following  in  my  chair,  while 
servants  and  coolies  straggled  on  behind,  but,  as 
usual,  something  was  missing.  This  time  it  was  one 
of  the  two  soldiers  detailed  by  the  Foreign  Office  to 
accompany  me  the  first  stages  of  my  journey.  We 
were  told  he  would  join  us  farther  on.  Fortunately 
Mr.  Stevenson  was  up  to  the  wiles  of  the  native,  and 
he  at  once  scented  the  favourite  device  for  two  to  take 
the  travelling  allowance,  and  then,  by  some  amicable 
arrangement,  for  only  one  to  go.  So  messengers  were 
sent  in  haste  to  look  up  the  recreant,  who  finally 
joined  us  with  cheerful  face  at  the  West  Gate,  which 
we  reached  by  a  rough  path  outside  the  north  wall. 
Here  I  bade  Mr.  Stevenson  good-bye,  and  turned 


42  A  WAYFARER   IN   CHINA 

my  face  away  from  the  city.  Once  more  I  was  on  the 
"  open  road."  Above  me  shone  the  bright  sun  of  Yun- 
nan, before  me  lay  the  long  trail  leading  into  the  un- 
known. Seven  hundred  miles  of  wild  mountainous 
country,  six  weeks  of  steady  travelling  lay  between 
me  and  Chengtu,  the  great  western  capital.  The  road 
I  planned  to  follow  would  lead  nearly  due  north  at 
first,  traversing  the  famous  Chien-ch'ang  valley  after 
crossing  the  Yangtse.  But  at  Fulin  on  the  Ta  Tu  I  in- 
tended to  make  a  detour  to  the  west  as  far  as  Ta- 
chienlu,  that  I  might  see  a  little  of  the  Tibetans  even 
though  I  could  not  enter  Tibet.  I  did  not  fear  trouble 
of  any  sort  in  spite  of  a  last  letter  of  warning  received 
at  Hong  Kong  from  our  Peking  Legation,  but  there 
was  just  enough  of  a  touch  of  adventure  to  the  trip 
to  make  the  roughnesses  of  the  way  endurable.  Days 
would  pass  before  I  could  again  talk  with  my  own 
kind,  but  I  was  not  afraid  of  being  lonely.  "The 
scene  was  savage,  but  the  scene  was  new,"  and  the 
hours  would  be  filled  full  with  the  constantly  chang- 
ing interests  of  the  road,  and  as  I  looked  at  my  men 
I  felt  already  the  comradeship  that  would  come  with 
long  days  of  effort  and  hardship  passed  together. 
These  men  of  the  East — Turk,  Indian,  Chinese,  Mon- 
gol—  are  much  of  a  muchness,  it  seems  to  me;  pay 
them  fairly,  treat  them  considerately,  laugh  instead 
of  storm  at  the  inevitable  mishaps  of  the  way,  and 
generally  they  will  give  you  faithful,  willing  service. 


102"  Longitude  East  from  Greenwich  ,     104° 


J  /*/    WEST  CHINA 


ACROSS  YUNNAN  43 

It  is  only  when  they  have  been  spoiled  by  overpay- 
ment, or  by  bullying  of  a  sort  they  do  not  understand, 
that  the  foreigner  finds  them  exacting  and  untrust- 
worthy. And  the  Chinese  is  an  eminently  reasonable 
man.  He  does  not  expect  reward  without  work,  and 
he  works  easily  and  cheerfully.  But  as  yet  he  was  to 
me  an  unknown  quantity,  and  I  looked  over  my  group 
of  coolies  with  some  interest  and  a  little  uncertainty. 
They  were  mostly  strong,  sound-looking  men ;  two 
or  three  were  middle-aged,  the  rest  young.  No  one 
looked  unequal  to  the  work,  and  no  one  proved  so. 
All  wore  the  inevitable  blue  cotton  of  the  Chinese, 
varying  with  wear  and  patching  from  blue-black  to 
bluish- white,  and  the  fashion  of  the  dress  was  always 
the  same ;  short,  full  trousers,  square-cut,  topped  by 
a  belted  shirt  with  long  sleeves  falling  over  the  hands 
or  rolled  up  to  the  elbow  according  to  the  weather. 
About  their  heads  they  generally  twisted  a  strip  of 
cotton,  save  when  blazing  sun  or  pouring  rain  called 
for  the  protection  of  their  wide  straw  hats  covered 
with  oiled  cotton.  Generally  they  wore  the  queue 
tucked  into  the  girdle  to  keep  it  out  of  the  way,  but 
occasionally  it  was  put  to  use,  as,  for  example,  if  a 
man's  hat  was  not  at  hand  to  ward  off  the  glare  of 
the  sun,  he  would  deftly  arrange  a  thatch  of  leaves  over 
his  eyes,  binding  it  firm  with  his  long  braid  of  black 
hair.  On  their  feet  they  wore  the  inevitable  straw  san- 
dal of  these  parts.  Comfortable  for  those  who  know 


44  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

how  to  wear  them,  cheap  even  though  not  durable 
(they  cost  only  four  cents  Mexican  the  pair),  and  a 
great  safeguard  against  slipping,  they  seemed  as 
satisfactory  footwear  as  the  ordinary  shoes  of  the  bet- 
ter-class Chinese  seemed  unsatisfactory.  Throughout 
the  East  it  is  only  the  barefooted  peasant  or  the  san- 
dalled mountaineer  who  does  not  seem  encumbered 
by  his  feet.  The  felt  shoe  of  the  Chinese  gentleman 
and  the  flapping,  heelless  slipper  of  the  Indian  are 
alike  uncomfortable  and  hampering.  Nor  have  Asi- 
atics learned  as  yet  to  wear  proper  European  shoes, 
or  to  wear  them  properly,  for  they  stub  along  in 
badly  cut,  ill-fitting  things  too  short  for  their  feet. 
Why  does  not  the  shoemaker  of  the  West,  if  he 
wishes  to  secure  an  Eastern  market,  study  the  foot  of 
the  native,  and  make  him  shoes  suited  to  his  need? 

Our  order  of  march  through  Yunnan  varied  little 
from  day  to  day.  We  all  had  breakfast  before  starting 
at  about  seven,  and  we  all  had  much  the  same  thing, 
tea  and  rice,  but  mine  came  from  the  coast ;  the  coo- 
lies bought  theirs  by  the  way.  At  intervals  during  the 
forenoon  we  stopped  at  one  of  the  many  tea-houses 
along  the  road  to  give  the  men  a  chance  to  rest  and 
smoke  and  drink  tea.  Sometimes  I  stayed  in  my  chair 
by  the  roadside;  more  often  I  escaped  from  the  noise 
and  dirt  of  the  village  to  some  spot  outside,  among 
the  rice-  and  bean-fields,  where  the  pony  could  gather 
a  few  scant  mouthfuls  of  grass  while  I  sat  hard-by  on 


ACROSS  YUNNAN  45 

a  turf  balk  and  enjoyed  the  quiet  and  clean  air.  Of 
course  I  was  often  found  out  and  followed  by  the  vil- 
lage-folk, but  their  curiosity  was  not  very  offensive. 
Generally  they  squatted  down  in  a  semi-circle  about 
me,  settling  themselves  deliberately  to  gaze  their  fill. 
If  they  came  too  near  I  laughed  and  waved  them 
back,  and  they  always  complied  good-naturedly.  The 
little  children  were  often  really  quite  charming  under 
the  dirt,  but  until  they  had  learned  to  wash  their  faces 
and  wipe  their  noses  I  must  confess  I  liked  them  best 
at  a  distance. 

At  noon  we  stopped  at  a  handy  inn  or  tea-house 
for  tiffin  and  a  long  rest.  I  was  ordinarily  served  at 
the  back  of  the  big  eating-room  open  to  the  street  in 
as  dignified  seclusion  as  my  cook  could  achieve.  Rice 
again,  with  perhaps  stewed  fowl  or  tinned  beef,  and 
a  dessert  of  jam  and  biscuit,  usually  formed  my 
luncheon,  and  dinner  was  like  unto  it,  save  that  oc- 
casionally we  succeeded  in  securing  some  onions  or 
potatoes.  The  setting-forth  of  my  table  with  clean 
cloth  and  changes  of  plates  was  of  never-failing  in- 
terest to  the  crowds  that  darkened  the  front  of  the 
eating-house,  and  excitement  reached  a  climax  when 
the  coolie,  whom  my  cook  had  installed  as  helper,  — 
there  is  no  Chinese  too  poor  to  lack  some  one  to  do 
his  bidding,  —  served  Jack  his  midday  meal  of  rice 
in  his  own  dish.  Then  men  stood  on  tiptoe  and  child- 
ren climbed  on  each  other's  shoulders  to  see  a  dog 


46  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

fed  like  —  the  Chinese  equivalent  of  Christian.  They 
never  seemed  to  begrudge  him  his  food  ;  on  the  con- 
trary, they  often  smiled  approvingly.  We  were  thou- 
sands of  miles  away  from  the  famine-stricken  regions 
of  eastern  China,  and  through  much  of  the  country 
where  I  journeyed  I  saw  almost  no  beggars  or  hungry- 
looking  folk.  In  the  afternoon  we  stopped  as  before 
at  short  intervals  at  some  roadside  tea-house,  for  the 
coolies  generally  expect  to  rest  every  hour. 

Our  day's  stage  usually  ended  in  a  good-sized 
town.  I  should  have  preferred  it  otherwise,  for  there 
is  more  quiet  and  freedom  in  the  villages.  But  my 
coolies  would  have  it  so ;  they  liked  the  stir  and  bet- 
ter fare  of  the  towns,  and  the  regular  stages  are  ar- 
ranged accordingly.  Our  entrance  was  noisy  and 
imposing.  My  coming  seemed  always  expected,  for 
as  by  magic  the  narrow  streets  filled  with  staring 
crowds.  Through  them  the  soldiers  fought  a  way  for 
my  chair,  borne  at  smart  pace  by  the  coolies  all 
shouting  at  the  top  of  their  voices.  I  tried  to  culti- 
vate the  superior  impassiveness  of  the  Chinese  offi- 
cial, but  generally  the  delighted  shrieks  of  the  child- 
ren at  the  sight  of  Jack  at  my  feet,  and  his  gay 
yelps  in  response,  "  upset  the  apple  cart."  There  was 
a  rush  to  see  the  "  foreign  dog."  I  gripped  him  tighter 
and  only  breathed  freely  when  with  a  sharp  turn  to 
right  or  left  my  chair  was  lifted  high  over  a  threshold 
and  borne  through  the  inn  door  into  the  courtyard, 


ACROSS  YUNNAN  47 

the  crowd  in  no  wise  baffled  swarming  at  our  heels, 
sometimes  not  even  stopping  at  the  entrance  to  the 
inner  court,  sacred  (more  or  less)  to  the  so-called 
mandarin  rooms,  the  best  rooms  of  the  place.  I  could 
not  but  sympathize  with  the  inn-keeper,  the  order  of 
his  establishment  thus  upset,  but  he  took  it  in  good 
part;  perhaps  the  turmoil  had  its  value  in  making 
known  to  the  whole  world  that  the  wandering  for- 
eigner had  bestowed  her  patronage  upon  his  house. 
I  am  sure  he  had  some  reward  in  the  many  cups  of 
tea  drunk  while  the  crowd  lingered  on  the  chance  of 
another  sight  of  the  unusual  visitor.  Anyway  we  were 
always  made  welcome,  and  no  objections  were  offered 
when  my  men  took  possession  of  the  place  in  very 
unceremonious  fashion,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  filling 
the  court  with  their  din,  blocking  the  ways  with  the 
chairs  and  baskets,  seeking  the  best  room  for  me, 
and  then  testing  the  door  and  putting  things  to 
rights  after  a  fashion,  while  the  owner  looked  on  in 
helpless  wonder. 

In  the  villages  one  stepped  directly  from  the  road 
into  a  large  living-room,  kitchen,  and  dining-room  in 
one,  and  out  of  this  opened  the  places  for  sleeping. 
The  inns  in  the  towns  are  built  more  or  less  after  one 
and  the  same  pattern.  Entrance  is  through  a  large 
restaurant  open  to  the  street,  and  filled  with  tables 
occupied  at  all  hours  save  early  dawn  with  men  sip- 
ping and  smoking.  From  the  restaurant  one  passes 


48  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

into  a  stone-paved  court  surrounded  usually  by  low, 
one-story  buildings,  although  occasionally  there  is  a 
second  story  opening  into  a  gallery.  Here  are  kitchens 
and  sleeping-rooms,  while  store-rooms  and  stables 
are  tucked  in  anywhere.  In  the  largest  inns  there  is 
often  an  inner  court  into  which  open  the  better  rooms. 
While  the  cook  bustled  about  to  get  hot  water,  and 
the  head  coolie  saw  to  the  setting-up  of  my  bed,  I 
generally  went  with  the  "  ma-fu,"  or  horse  boy,  to 
see  that  the  pony  was  properly  cared  for.  Usually  he 
was  handy,  sometimes  tethered  by  my  door,  often 
just  under  my  room,  once  overhead.  Meanwhile  the 
coolies  were  freshening  themselves  up  a  bit  after  the 
day's  work.  Sitting  about  the  court  they  rinsed  chest 
and  head  and  legs  with  the  unfailing  supply  of  hot 
water  which  is  the  one  luxury  of  a  Chinese  inn.  I  can 
speak  authoritatively  on  the  cleanliness  of  the  Chinese 
coolie,  for  I  had  the  chance  daily  to  see  my  men  scrub 
themselves.  Their  cotton  clothing  loosely  cut  was 
well  ventilated,  even  though  infrequently  cleansed, 
and  there  hung  about  them  nothing  of  the  odour  of 
the  great  unwashed  of  the  Western  world.  I  wish  one 
could  say  as  much  for  the  inns,  but  alas,  they  were 
foul-smelling,  one  and  all,  and  occasionally  the  room 
offered  me  was  so  filthy  that  I  refused  to  occupy  it, 
and  went  on  the  war-path  for  myself,  followed  by  a 
crowd  of  perplexed  servants  and  coolies.  Almost  al- 
ways I  found  a  loft  or  a  stable-yard  that  had  at  least 


ACROSS  YUNNAN  49 

the  advantage  of  plenty  of  fresh  air,  and  without 
demur  my  innkeeper  made  me  free  of  it,  although  I 
expect  it  cut  him  to  the  heart  to  have  his  best  room 
so  flouted. 

Generally  I  went  to  bed  soon  after  dinner;  there 
was  nothing  else  to  do,  for  the  dim  lantern  light 
made  reading  difficult,  and  anyway  my  books  were 
few.  But  while  the  nights  were  none  too  long  for  me, 
the  Chinese,  like  most  Asiatics,  make  little  distinction 
between  day  and  night.  They  sleep  if  there  is  nothing 
else  to  do,  they  wake  when  work  or  pleasure  calls, 
and  it  was  long  after  midnight  when  the  inn  settled 
itself  to  rest,  and  by  four  o'clock  it  was  again  awake, 
and  before  seven  we  were  once  more  on  the  road. 

In  Yunnan,  or  "  South  of  the  Clouds,"  as  the  word 
signifies,  you  are  in  a  land  of  sunshine,  of  wild 
grandeur  and  beauty,  of  unfailing  interest.  Its  one 
hundred  and  fifty-five  thousand  square  miles  are 
pretty  much  on  end ;  no  matter  which  way  you  cross 
the  country  you  are  always  going  up  or  going  down, 
and  the  contrasts  of  vegetation  and  lack  of  it  are  just 
as  emphatic ;  barren  snow-topped  mountains  over- 
hang tiny  valleys,  veritable  gems  of  tropical  beauty ; 
you  pass  with  one  step  from  a  waste  of  rock  and  sand 
to  a  garden-like  oasis  of  soft  green  and  rippling 
waters.  Yunnan's  chequered  history  is  revealed  in 
the  varied  peoples  that  inhabit  the  deep  valleys  and 
narrow  river  banks.  Nominally  annexed  to  the  em- 


50  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

pire  by  Kublai  Khan,  the  Mongol,  in  the  thirteenth 
century,  ever  since  the  Chinese  people  have  been  at 
work  peacefully  and  irresistibly  making  the  conquest 
real,  and  now  they  are  found  all  over  the  province, 
as  a  matter  of  course  occupying  the  best  places.  But 
they  have  not  exterminated  the  aborigines,  nor  have 
they  assimilated  them  to  any  degree.  To-day  the 
tribes  constitute  more  than  one  half  the  population, 
and  an  ethnological  map  of  Yunnan  is  a  wonderful 
patchwork,  for  side  by  side  and  yet  quite  distinct, 
you  find  scattered  about  settlements  of  Chinese, 
Shans,  Lolos,  Miaos,  Losus,  and  just  what  some  of 
these  are  is  still  an  unsolved  riddle.  To  add  to  the  con- 
fusion there  is  a  division  of  religions  hardly  known 
elsewhere,  for  out  of  the  population  of  twelve  millions 
it  is  estimated  that  three  or  four  millions  are  Moham- 
medans. To  be  sure,  they  seem  much  like  the  others, 
and  generally  all  get  on  together  very  well,  for  Mos- 
lem pride  of  religion  does  not  find  much  response  with 
the  practical  Chinese,  and  the  Buddhist  is  as  tolerant 
here  as  elsewhere.  But  the  Mohammedan  rebellion 
of  half  a  century  ago  has  left  terrible  memories  ;  then 
add  to  that  the  ill-feeling  between  the  Chinese  and 
the  tribesmen,  and  the  general  discontent  at  the  pro- 
hibition of  poppy-growing,  and  it  is  plain  that  Yun- 
nan offers  a  fine  field  for  long-continued  civil  dis- 
order with  all  the  possibility  of  foreign  interference. 
The  early  hours  of  our  first  day's  march  led  us 


ACROSS  YUNNAN  51 

along  the  great  western  trade  route,  and  we  met 
scores  of  people  hurrying  towards  the  capital,  mostly 
coolies  carrying  on  their  backs,  or  slung  from  a  bam- 
boo pole  across  their  shoulders,  great  loads  of  wood, 
charcoal,  fowls,  rice,  vegetables.  Every  one  was  afoot 
or  astride  a  pony,  for  there  was  nothing  on  wheels, 
not  even  a  barrow.  The  crowd  lacked  the  variety  in 
colour  and  cut  of  dress  of  a  Hindu  gathering;  all 
had  black  hair  and  all  wore  blue  clothes,  and  one  real- 
ized at  once  how  much  China  loses  in  not  having  a 
picturesque  and  significant  head  covering  like  the 
Indian  turban.  But  the  faces  showed  more  diversity 
both  in  hue  and  in  feature  than  I  had  looked  for.  In 
America  we  come  in  contact  chiefly  with  Chinese  of 
one  class,  and  usually  from  the  one  province  of 
Kwangtung.  But  the  men  of  Yunnan  and  Szechuan 
are  of  a  different  type,  larger,  sturdier,  of  better  car- 
riage. It  takes  experience  commonly  to  mark  differ- 
ences in  face  and  expression  among  men  of  an  alien 
race,  and  to  the  Asiatic  all  Europeans  look  much 
alike,  but  already  I  was  discerning  variety  in  the 
faces  I  met  along  the  trail,  and  they  did  not  seem  as 
unfamiliar  to  me  as  I  had  expected.  I  was  constantly 
surprised  by  resemblances  to  types  and  individuals  at 
home.  One  of  my  chair  coolies,  for  example,  a  young, 
smooth-faced  fellow,  bore  a  disconcerting  likeness  to 
one  of  my  former  students.  But  fair  or  dark,  fine- 
featured  or  foul,  all  greeted  me  in  a  friendly  way, 


52  A-WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

generally  stopping  after  I  had  passed  to  ask  my 
coolies  more  about  me.  My  four-bearer  chair  testi- 
fied to  my  standing,  and  my  men,  Eastern  fashion, 
glorified  themselves  in  glorifying  me.  I  was  a 
"scholar,"  a  "learned  lady,"  but  what  I  had  come 
for  was  not  so  clear.  A  missionary  I  certainly  was 
not.  Anyway,  as  a  mere  woman  I  was  not  likely  to 
do  harm. 

The  road  after  crossing  the  plain  entered  the  hills, 
winding  up  and  down,  but  always  paved  with  cob- 
bles and  flags  laid  with  infinite  pains  generations  ago, 
and  now  illustrating  the  Chinese  saying  of  "  good  for 
ten  years,  bad  for  ten  thousand."  It  was  so  hopelessly 
out  of  repair  that  men  and  ponies  alike  had  to  pick 
their  way  with  caution.  Long  flights  of  irregular  and 
broken  stone  stairs  led  up  and  down  the  hillsides  over 
which  my  freshly  shod  pony  slipped  and  floundered 
awkwardly,  and  I  always  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief 
when  a  stretch  of  hard  red  earth  gave  a  little  respite. 
It  was  neither  courage  nor  pride  that  kept  me  in  the 
saddle,  but  the  knowledge  that  much  of  the  way 
would  be  worse  rather  than  better,  and  I  would  wisely 
face  it  at  the  outset.  If  it  got  too  nerve-racking  I 
could  always  betake  myself  to  my  chair  and,  trusting 
in  the  eight  sturdy  legs  of  my  bearers,  abandon  my- 
self to  enjoying  the  sights  along  the  way. 

Our  first  day's  halt  for  tiffin  was  at  the  small 
hamlet  of  Fu  chi.  The  eating-house  was  small  and 


ACROSS  YUNNAN  53 

crowded,  and  my  cook  set  my  table  perforce  in  the 
midst  of  the  peering,  pointing  throng.  I  was  the  tar- 
get of  scores  of  black  eyes,  and  I  felt  that  every  move- 
ment was  discussed,  every  mouthful  counted.  As  a 
first  experience  it  was  a  little  embarrassing,  but  the 
people  seemed  good-humoured  and  very  ready  to  fall 
into  place  or  move  out  of  the  way  in  obedience  to  my 
gestures  when  I  tried  to  take  some  pictures,  not  too 
successfully.  Here  for  a  moment  I  was  again  in  touch 
with  my  own  world,  as  a  runner,  most  thoughtfully 
sent  by  Mr.  Stevenson  with  the  morning's  letters,  over- 
took me.  According  to  arrangement  he  had  been  paid 
beforehand,  but  not  knowing  that  I  knew  that,  he 
clamoured  for  more.  The  crowd  pressed  closer  to 
listen  to  the  discussion,  and  grinned  with  a  rather 
malicious  satisfaction  when  the  man  was  forced  to 
confess  that  he  had  already  received  what  they  knew 
was  a  generous  tip.  Chinese  business  instinct  kept 
them  impartial,  even  between  one  of  their  own  people 
and  a  foreigner. 

That  night  we  stopped,  after  a  stage  of  some  sixty 
li,  about  nineteen  miles,  at  Erh-tsun,  a  small,  uninter- 
esting village.  The  inn  was  very  poor,  and  I  would 
have  consoled  myself  by  thinking  that  it  was  well  to 
get  used  to  the  worst  at  once,  only  I  was  not  sure 
that  it  was  the  worst.  My  room,  off  the  public  gather- 
ing place,  had  but  one  window  looking  directly  on 
the  street.  From  the  moment  of  my  arrival  the  open- 


54  A  WAYFARER  IN  CHINA 

ing  was  filled  with  the  faces  of  a  staring,  curious 
crowd,  pushing  each  other,  stretching  their  necks  to 
get  a  better  view.  My  servants  put  up  an  oiled  cotton 
sheet,  but  it  was  promptly  drawn  aside,  so  there  was 
nothing  for  me  to  do  but  wash,  eat,  and  go  to  bed  in 
public,  like  a  royal  personage  of  former  times. 

It  was  a  beautiful  spring  morning  when  we  started 
the  next  day.  We  were  now  among  the  mountains, 
and  much  of  our  way  led  along  barren  hillsides,  but 
the  air  was  intoxicating,  and  the  views  across  the 
ridges  were  charming.  At  times  we  dropped  into  a 
small  valley,  each  having  its  little  group  of  houses 
nestling  among  feathery  bamboos  and  surrounded  by 
tiny  green  fields.  Dogs  barked,  children  ran  after  us, 
men  and  women  stopped  for  a  moment  to  smile  a 
greeting  and  exchange  a  word  with  our  coolies.  As 
a  rule,  the  people  looked  comfortable  and  well  fed, 
but  here  and  there  we  passed  a  group  of  ruined,  aban- 
doned hovels.  The  explanation  varied.  Sometimes 
the  ruin  dated  back  more  than  a  generation  to  the 
terrible  days  of  the  Mohammedan  rebellion.  In  other 
cases  the  trouble  was  more  recent.  The  irrigating  sys- 
tem had  broken  down,  or  water  was  scant,  or  more 
frequently  the  cutting-off  of  the  opium  crop  had  driven 
the  people  from  their  homes.  Fut  in  general  there 
was  little  tillable  land  that  was  unoccupied.  In  fact, 
the  painstaking  effort  to  utilize  every  bit  of  soil  was 
tragic  to  American  eyes,  accustomed  to  long  stretches 


ACROSS  YUNNAN  55 

of  countryside  awaiting  the  plough.  At  the  close  of 
the  troubles  that  devastated  the  province  during  the 
third  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century  it  is  said  that 
the  population  of  Yunnan  had  fallen  to  about  a  mil- 
lion, but  now,  owing  in  part  to  the  great  natural  in- 
crease of  the  Chinese,  and  in  part  to  immigration 
chiefly  from  overpopulated  Szechuan  and  Kwei-chou, 
it  is  estimated  at  twelve  million.  At  any  rate,  those 
who  know  the  country  well  declare  there  is  little  va- 
cant land  fit  for  agriculture,  that  the  province  has 
about  as  many  inhabitants  as  it  can  support,  and  can 
afford  no  relief  to  the  overcrowded  eastern  districts. 
This  is  a  thing  to  keep  in  mind  when  Japan  urges  her 
need  of  Manchuria  for  her  teeming  millions. 

We  stopped  for  tiffin  at  Fu-ming-hsien,  a  prosper- 
ous-looking town  of  some  eight  hundred  families. 
As  usual,  I  lunched  in  public,  the  crowd  pressing 
close  about  my  table  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  a  real, 
khaki-clad  policeman ;  but  it  was  a  jolly,  friendly 
crowd,  its  interest  easily  diverted  from  me  to  the  dog. 
Here  we  changed  soldiers,  for  this  was  a  hsien  town, 
or  district  centre.  Those  who  had  come  with  me  from 
Yunnan-fu  were  dismissed  with  a  tip  amounting  to 
about  three  cents  gold  a  day  each.  They  seemed 
perfectly  satisfied.  It  was  the  regulation  amount ;  had 
I  given  more  they  would  have  clamoured  for  some- 
thing additional.  That  afternoon  we  stopped  for  a 
long  rest  at  a  tiny,  lonely  inn,  perched  most  pic- 


56  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

turesquely  on  a  spur  of  the  mountain.  I  sat  in  my 
chair  while  the  coolies  drank  tea  inside,  and  a  num- 
ber of  children  gathered  about  me,  ready  to  run  if  I 
seemed  dangerous.  Finally  one,  taking  his  courage 
in  both  hands,  presented  me  with  the  local  substitute 
for  candy,  —  raw  peas  in  the  pod,  which  I  nibbled 
and  found  refreshing.  In  turn  I  doled  out  some  bis- 
cuits, to  the  children's  great  delight,  while  fathers 
and  mothers  looked  on  approvingly.  The  way  to  the 
heart  of  the  Chinese  is  not  far  to  seek.  They  dote  on 
children,  and  children  the  world  over  are  much  alike. 
More  than  once  I  have  solved  an  awkward  situation 
by  ignoring  the  inhospitable  or  unwilling  elders  and 
devoting  myself  to  the  little  ones,  always  at  hand. 
Please  the  children  and  you  have  won  the  parents. 

We  stopped  that  night  at  Ch£-pei,  a  small  town 
lying  at  an  elevation  of  about  six  thousand  feet.  My 
room,  the  best  the  inn  afforded,  was  dirty,  but  large 
and  airy.  On  one  side  a  table  was  arranged  for  the 
ancestral  family  worship,  and  I  delayed  turning  in  at 
night  to  give  the  people  a  chance  to  burn  a  few  joss 
sticks,  which  they  did  in  a  very  matter-of-fact  fashion, 
nowise  disturbed  at  my  washing-things,  which  Liu, 
the  cook,  had  set  out  among  the  gods. 

Our  path  the  next  day  led  high  on  the  mountain- 
side and  along  a  beautiful  ridge.  We  stopped  for  an 
early  rest  at  a  little  walled  village,  Jee-ka  ("  Cock's 
street"),  perched  picturesquely  on  the  top  of  the  hill. 


ACROSS  YUNNAN  57 

Later  we  saw  a  storm  advancing  across  the  moun- 
tains, and  before  we  could  reach  cover  the  clouds 
broke  over  our  heads,  drenching  the  poor  coolies  to 
the  skin,  but  they  took  it  in  good  part,  laughing  as 
they  scuttled  along  the  trail.  The  rain  kept  on  for 
some  hours,  and  the  road  was  alternately  a  brook  or 
a  sea  of  slippery  red  mud ;  the  pony,  with  the  cook 
on  his  back,  rolled  over,  but  fortunately  neither  was 
hurt ;  coolies  slid  and  floundered,  and  the  chair-men 
went  down,  greatly  to  their  confusion,  for  it  is 
deemed  inexcusable  for  a  chair-carrier  to  fall.  To- 
ward the  end  of  the  day  it  cleared  and  the  bright  sun 
soon  dried  the  ways,  and  we  raced  into  Wu-ting- 
chou  in  fine  shape,  the  coolies  picking  their  way 
deftly  along  the  narrow  earth  balks  that  form  the 
highway  to  this  rather  important  town.  Our  entrance 
was  of  the  usual  character,  a  cross  between  a  tri- 
umphal procession  and  a  circus  show,  —  people  rush- 
ing to  see  the  sight,  children  calling,  dogs  barking, 
my  men  shouting  as  they  pushed  their  way  through 
the  throng,  while  I  sat  the  observed  of  all,  trying  to 
carry  off  my  embarrassment  with  a  benevolent  smile. 
I  am  told  that  the  interest  of  a  Chinese  crowd  usually 
centres  on  the  foreigners'  shoes,  but  in  my  case, 
when  the  gaze  got  down  to  my  feet,  Jack  was  mostly 
there  to  divert  attention. 

Rain  came  on  again  in  the  night  and  kept  us  in 
Wu-ting-chou  over  the  next  day.  The  Chinese,  with 


58  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

their  extraordinary  adaptability,  can  stand  extremes 
of  heat  and  cold  remarkably  well.  Hence  they  are 
good  colonizers,  able  to  work  in  Manchuria  and 
Singapore,  Canada  and  Panama.  But  rain  they  dis- 
like, and  a  smart  shower  is  a  good  excuse  for  stop- 
ping. Fortunately  for  all,  the  inn  was  unusually 
decent.  Steps  led  from  the  street  into  an  outer  court, 
behind  which  was  a  much  larger  second  court,  sur- 
rounded on  all  sides  by  two-story  buildings.  My 
room  on  the  upper  floor  had  beautiful  views  over  the 
town,  more  attractive  at  close  range  than  most 
Chinese  towns.  The  temples  and  yamen  buildings 
were  exceptionally  fine,  while  the  houses,  of  sun-dried 
brick  of  the  colour  of  the  red  soil  of  Yunnan,  had  a 
comfortable  look,  their  tip-tilted  tiled  roofs  showing 
picturesquely  among  the  trees. 

I  spent  the  rainy  forenoon  in  writing  and  in  lean- 
ing over  the  gallery  to  watch  the  life  going  on  below. 
After  the  first  excitement  people  went  about  their 
business  undisturbed  by  my  presence.  At  one  side 
cooking  was  carried  on  at  a  long,  crescent-shaped 
range  of  some  sort  of  cement,  and  containing  half  a 
dozen  openings  for  fires.  Above  each  fire  was  a  bowl- 
shaped  depression  in  the  range,  and  into  this  was 
fitted  a  big  iron  pot.  The  food  of  the  country  is  gen- 
erally boiled,  and  is  often  seasoned  with  a  good  deal 
of  care.  Barring  the  lack  of  cleanliness,  the  chief 
objection  to  the  cooking  of  the  peasant-folk  is  the 


ACROSS  YUNNAN  59 

failure  to  cook  thoroughly.  The  Chinese  are  content 
if  the  rice  and  vegetables  are  cooked  through  ;  they 
do  not  insist,  as  we  do,  that  they  be  cooked  soft.  In 
the  smaller  inns  my  men  prepared  their  food  them- 
selves, and  some  showed  considerable  skill.  One 
soldier  in  particular  was  past-master  in  making 
savoury  stews  much  appreciated  by  the  others. 

Wu-ting-chou  being  a  place  designated  for  the  pay- 
ment of  an  instalment  of  wages,  and  also  the  time 
having  come  for  pork  money,  my  coolies  had  a  grand 
feast,  after  which  they  devoted  themselves  to  gam- 
bling away  their  hard-earned  money  in  games  of "  fan 
t'an."  As  they  played  entirely  among  themselves  the 
result  was  that  some  staggered  the  following  day 
under  heavy  ropes  of  cash,  while  others  were  forced 
to  sell  their  hats  to  pay  for  their  food.  I  could  only 
hope  that  the  next  pay-day  would  mean  a  readjust- 
ment of  spoils. 

In  the  afternoon  it  cleared,  and  I  went  out  in  my 
chair,  escorted  by  two  policemen,  to  a  charming  grove 
outside  the  walls,  where  I  rested  for  a  time  in  a  quiet 
nook,  enjoying  the  views  over  the  valley  and  thank- 
ful to  get  away  from  the  din  of  the  inn.  Curling  up,  I 
went  fast  asleep,  to  wake  with  an  uncomfortable  sense 
of  being  watched ;  and  sure  enough,  peering  over  the 
top  of  the  bank  where  I  was  lying  were  two  pairs  of 
startled  black  eyes.  I  laughed,  and  thereupon  the 
owners  of  the  eyes,  who  had  stumbled  upon  me  as 


60  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

they  came  up  the  hill,  seated  themselves  in  front  of 
me  and  began  to  ply  me  with  questions,  to  which  I 
could  only  answer  with  another  laugh ;  so  they  re- 
lapsed into  friendly  silence,  gingerly  stroking  Jack 
while  they  kept  a  watchful  eye  on  me.  What  does  it 
matter  if  words  are  lacking,  a  laugh  is  understood, 
and  will  often  smooth  a  way  where  speech  would 
bring  confusion.  Once,  years  ago  in  Western  Tibet,  I 
crossed  a  high  pass  with  just  one  coolie,  in  advance 
of  my  caravan.  Without  warning  we  dropped  down 
into  a  little  village  above  the  Shyok.  Most  of  the 
people  had  never  before  seen  a  European.  I  could 
not  talk  with  them  nor  they  with  my  coolie,  —  for  he 
came  from  the  other  side  of  the  range,  —  nor  he  with 
me.  But  I  laughed,  and  every  one  else  laughed,  and 
in  five  minutes  I  was  sitting  on  the  grass  under  the 
walnut  trees,  offerings  of  flowers  and  mulberries  on 
my  lap,  and  while  the  whole  population  sat  around  on 
stone  walls  and  house  roofs,  the  village  head  man 
took  off  my  shoes  and  rubbed  my  weary  feet. 

When  I  emerged  from  my  retreat  I  found  that  a 
priest  from  the  neighbouring  temple  had  come  to  beg 
a  visit  from  me.  It  turned  out  to  be  a  Buddhist  temple 
on  the  usual  plan,  noteworthy  only  for  a  rather  good 
figure  of  Buddha  made  of  sun-dried  clay  and  painted. 
The  priest  was  inclined  to  refuse  a  fee,  saying  he  had 
done  nothing,  but  he  was  keen  to  have  me  take  some 
pictures. 


ACROSS  YUNNAN  61 

The  next  three  days  our  path  led  us  across  the 
mountains  separating  the  Yangtse  and  Red  River 
basins.  We  were  now  off  the  main  roads ;  villages 
and  travellers  were  few.  To  my  delight  we  had  left 
for  a  time  the  paved  trails  over  which  the  pony  scraped 
and  slipped ;  the  hard  dirt  made  a  surer  footing,  and 
it  was  possible  to  let  him  out  for  a  trot  now  and  then. 
The  start  and  finish  of  the  day  were  usually  by  wind- 
ing narrow  paths  carried  along  the  strips  of  turf  divid- 
ing the  fields  or  over  the  top  of  a  stone  wall.  I  learned 
to  respect  both  the  sure-footedness  of  the  Yunnan 
pony  and  the  thrift  of  the  Yunnan  peasant  who  wasted 
no  bit  of  tillable  land  on  roads.  From  time  to  time 
we  crossed  a  stone  bridge,  rarely  of  more  than  one 
arch,  and  that  so  pointed  that  the  ponies  on  the  road, 
which  followed  closely  the  line  of  the  arch,  clambered 
up  with  difficulty  only  to  slide  headlong  on  the  other 
side.  The  bridges  of  these  parts  are  very  picturesque, 
giving  an  added  charm  to  the  landscape,  in  glaring 
contrast  to  the  hideous,  shed-like  structures  that  dis- 
figure many  a  beautiful  stream  of  New  England. 

Our  way  led  alternately  over  barren  or  pine-clad 
hills,  showing  everywhere  signs  of  charcoal  burners, 
or  through  deep  gorges,  or  dipped  down  into  tiny 
emerald  valleys.  At  one  point  we  descended  an  in- 
terminable rock  staircase  guarded  by  soldiers  top 
and  bottom.  Formerly  this  was  a  haunt  of  robbers, 
but  now  the  Government  was  making  a  vigorous  ef- 


62  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

fort  to  insure  the  safety  of  traffic  along  this  way.  Our 
stay  that  night  was  in  a  tiny  hamlet,  and  a  special 
guard  was  stationed  at  the  door  of  the  inn  to  defend 
us  against  real  or  fancied  danger  from  marauders. 

It  was  still  early  in  April,  but  even  on  these  high 
levels  the  flowers  were  in  their  glory,  and  each  day 
revealed  a  new  wonder.  Roses  were  abundant,  white 
and  scentless,  or  small,  pink,  and  spicy,  and  the 
ground  was  carpeted  with  yellow  and  blue  flowers. 
From  time  to  time  we  passed  a  group  of  comfortable 
farm  buildings,  but  much  of  the  country  had  a  deso- 
late look  and  the  villages  were  nothing  more  than 
forlorn  hamlets,  and  once  we  stopped  for  the  night 
in  a  solitary  house  far  from  any  settlement.  A  week 
after  leaving  Yunnan-fu  we  entered  the  valley  of  the 
Tso-ling  Ho,  a  tributary  of  the  Great  River,  and  a 
more  fertile  region.  As  I  had  been  warned,  the  wea- 
ther changed  here,  and  for  the  next  twenty-four 
hours  we  sweltered  in  the  steamy  heat  of  the  Yangtse 
basin.  From  now  on,  there  was  no  lack  of  water.  On 
all  sides  brooks  large  and  small  dashed  down,  swell- 
ing the  Tso-ling  almost  to  the  size  of  the  main  river 
itself.  At  one  spot,  sending  the  men  on  to  the  village, 
I  stopped  on  the  river  bank  to  bathe  my  tired  feet, 
and  was  startled  by  the  passing  of  a  stray  fisherman, 
but  he  seemed  in  no  wise  surprised,  and  greeting  me 
courteously  went  on  with  his  work.  China  shares  with 
us  the  bad  fame  of  being  unpleasantly  inquisitive. 


ACROSS  YUNNAN  63 

Would  the  rural  American,  happening  upon  a 
Chinese  woman,  —  an  alien  apparition  from  her 
smoothly  plastered  hair  to  her  tiny  bound  feet,  —  by 
the  brookside  in  one  of  his  home  fields,  have  shown 
the  same  restraint? 

At  five  o'clock  that  same  day  we  reached  the  ferry 
across  the  Yangtse,  too  late  to  cross  that  night.  I  was 
hot  and  weary  after  a  long  march,  and  the  only  place 
available  in  the  village  of  Lung-kai  was  a  cramped, 
windowless  hole  opening  into  a  small,  filthy  court, 
the  best  room  of  the  inn  being  occupied  by  a  sick 
man.  Through  an  open  doorway  I  caught  a  glimpse 
into  a  stable-yard  well  filled  with  pigs.  On  one  side 
was  a  small,  open,  shrine-like  structure  reached  by  a 
short  flight  of  steps.  In  spite  of  the  shocked  remon- 
strances of  my  men  I  insisted  on  taking  possession 
of  this ;  the  yard,  though  dirty,  was  dry,  and  at  least 
I  was  sure  of  plenty  of  air.  Fresh  straw  was  spread 
in  the  shrine  and  my  bed  set  up  on  it ;  the  pigs  were 
given  my  pony's  stable,  as  I  preferred  his  company 
to  theirs ;  and  I  had  an  unusually  pleasant  evening, 
spite  of  the  fact  that  the  roofs  of  the  adjoining  build- 
ings were  crowded  with  onlookers,  mostly  children, 
until  it  grew  too  dark  for  them  to  see  anything. 

We  crossed  the  Yangtse  the  next  day  on  a  large 
flat-bottomed  boat  into  which  we  all  crowded  hig- 
gledy-piggledy, the  men  and  their  loads,  pony  and 
chairs.  The  current  was  so  swift  that  we  were  carried 


64  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

some  distance  downstream  before  making  a  landing. 
At  this  point,  and  indeed  from  Tibet  to  Suifu,  the 
Yangtse  is,  I  believe,  generally  known  as  the  Kinsha 
Kiang,  or  "River  of  Golden  Sand."  The  Chinese 
have  no  idea  of  the  continuing  identity  of  a  river,  and 
most  of  theirs  have  different  names  at  different  parts 
of  their  course,  but  in  this  case  there  is  some  reason 
for  the  failure  to  regard  the  upper  and  the  lower 
Yangtse  as  one  and  the  same  stream,  for  at  Suifu, 
where  the  Min  joins  the  Yangtse,  it  is  much  the  larger 
body  of  water  throughout  most  of  the  year,  and  is 
generally  held  by  the  natives  to  be  the  true  source 
of  the  Great  River.  Moreover,  above  the  junction  the 
Yangtse  is  not  navigable,  owing  to  the  swift  current 
and  obstructing  rocks,  while  the  Min  serves  as  one 
of  China's  great  waterways,  bearing  the  products  of 
the  famous  Chengtu  plain  to  the  eastern  markets. 

After  leaving  the  ferry  we  followed  for  some  miles 
the  dry  bed  of  a  river  whose  name  I  could  not  learn. 
The  scene  was  desolate  and  barren  in  the  extreme, 
nothing  but  rock  and  sand;  and  had  it  not  been 
cloudy  the  heat  would  have  been  very  trying.  But 
we  were  now  among  the  Cloud  Mountains,  where  the 
bright  days  are  so  few  that  it  is  said  the  Szechuan 
dogs  bark  when  the  sun  comes  out.  After  a  short  stop 
at  a  lonely  inn  near  a  trickle  of  a  brook  we  turned 
abruptly  up  the  mountain-side,  by  a  zigzag  trail  so 
steep  that  even  the  interpreter  was  forced  to  walk. 


ACROSS  YUNNAN  65 

As  I  toiled  wearily  upward,  I  looked  back  to  find  my 
dog  riding  comfortably  in  my  chair.  Tired  and  hot, 
he  had  barked  to  be  taken  up.  The  coolies  thought 
it  a  fine  joke,  and  when  I  whistled  him  down  they  at 
once  put  him  back  again,  explaining  that  it  was  hard 
work  for  short  legs.  At  one  of  the  worst  bits  of  the 
trail  we  met  some  finely  dressed  men  on  horseback, 
who  stared  in  a  superior  way  at  me  on  foot.  The 
Chinese  sees  no  reason  for  walking  if  he  has  a  chair 
or  pony.  What  are  the  chair  and  the  pony  for  ?  They 
must  lack  imagination,  or  how  can  they  ride  down 
the  awful  staircases  of  a  West  China  road,  the  pony 
plunging  from  step  to  step  under  his  heavy  load?  I 
doubt  if  they  realize  either  the  pony's  suffering  or 
the  rider's  danger.  I  did  both,  and  so  I  often  walked. 
After  a  climb  of  three  thousand  feet  we  came  out  on 
a  wide  open  plateau,  beautifully  cultivated,  which  we 
crossed  to  our  night  stopping-place,  Chiang-yi,  nearly 
seven  thousand  feet  above  sea  level. 

We  started  the  next  morning  in  the  rain,  which 
kept  up  pretty  much  all  day.  The  country  through 
which  we  now  passed  was  rather  bare  of  cultivation 
and  of  inhabitants,  but  the  wealth  and  variety  of 
flowers  and  shrubs  more  than  made  amends.  No- 
where have  I  seen  such  numbers  of  flowering  shrubs 
as  all  through  this  region,  a  few  known  to  me,  but 
most  of  them  quite  new.  It  was  with  much  gratifica- 
tion that  I  learned  at  a  later  time  of  the  remarkable 


66  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

work  done  in  connection  with  the  Arnold  Arboretum 
near  Boston  in  seeking  out  and  bringing  to  America 
specimens  of  many  of  China's  beautiful  trees  and 
plants.  At  the  head  of  one  small  valley  we  passed  a 
charming  temple  half  buried  in  oleanders  and  sur- 
rounded by  its  own  shimmering  green  rice-fields,  and 
a  little  farther  on  we  came  to  a  farmhouse  enclosed 
in  a  rose  hedge  some  twelve  feet  high  and  in  full 
bloom.  There  was  no  sign  of  life  about,  and  it  might 
have  served  as  the  refuge  of  the  Sleeping  Princess, 
but  a  nearer  inspection  would  probably  have  been 
disillusioning. 

We  stopped  that  night  at  Ho-k'ou,  a  small  place 
of  which  I  saw  little,  for  the  heavy  rain  that  kept  us 
there  over  a  day  held  me  a  prisoner  in  the  inn.  I  had 
a  small  room  over  the  pony's  stable,  and  I  spent  the 
forenoon  writing  to  the  tune  of  comfortable  crunch- 
ing of  corn  and  beans.  The  rest  of  the  day  I  amused 
myself  in  entertaining  the  women  of  the  inn  with  the 
contents  of  my  dressing-case,  and  when  it  grew  cold 
in  my  open  loft  I  joined  the  circle  round  the  good 
coal  fire  burning  in  a  brazier  in  the  public  room. 
Every  one  was  friendly,  and  persistent,  men  and 
women  alike,  in  urging  me  to  take  whiffs  from  their 
long-stemmed  tobacco  pipes.  All  smoke,  using  some- 
times this  long-stemmed,  small-bowled  pipe,  and 
sometimes  the  water  pipe,  akin  in  principle  to  the 
Indian  hubble-bubble.  In  this  part  of  Szechuan  I  saw 


ACROSS  YUNNAN  67 

few  smoking  cigarettes,  but  thanks  to  the  untiring 
efforts  of  the  British  American  Tobacco  Company, 
they  are  fast  becoming  known,  and  my  men  were 
vastly  pleased  when  I  doled  some  out  at  the  end  of  a 
hard  day. 

From  Ho-k'ou  it  was  a  two  days'  journey  to  Hui- 
li-chou,  the  first  large  town  on  my  trip.  The  scenery 
was  charmingly  varied.  At  times  the  trail  led  along 
high  ridges  with  beautiful  glimpses  down  into  the 
valleys,  or  affording  splendid  views  to  right  and  left, 
to  the  mysterious,  forbidden  Lololand  to  the  east,  and 
to  the  unsurveyed  country  beyond  the  Yalung,  west 
of  us,  or  again  it  dropped  to  the  banks  of  the  streams, 
leading  us  through  attractive  hamlets  buried  in  palms 
and  bamboo,  pines  and  cactus,  while  the  surrounding 
hillsides  were  white  or  red  with  masses  of  rhododen- 
dron just  coming  into  flower.  Entering  one  village  I 
heard  a  sound  as  of  swarming  bees  raised  to  the  one 
hundredth  power.  On  inquiry  it  turned  out  to  be  a 
school  kept  in  a  small  temple.  While  the  coolies  were 
resting  I  sent  my  card  to  the  schoolmaster,  and  was 
promptly  invited  to  pay  a  visit  of  inspection.  It  proved 
to  be  a  private  school  of  some  thirty  boys  and  one  girl, 
the  master's  daughter.  They  were  of  all  ages  from  six 
years  upwards,  and,  I  was  told,  generally  stayed 
from  one  to  five  years  at  school.  Instruction  was 
limited  to  reading  and  writing,  and  two  boys  were 
called  up  to  show  what  they  could  do.  To  ignorant 


68  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

me  they  seemed  to  do  very  well,  reading  glibly  down 
their  pages  of  hieroglyphics. 

At  another  stop  I  had  a  talk  with  the  village  head- 
man. He  was  elected  for  one  year,  he  told  me,  by  the 
people  of  the  hamlet,  comprising  about  forty  families. 
He  confessed  his  inability  to  read  or  write,  but  his 
face  was  intelligent  and  his  bearing  showed  dignity 
and  self-respect.  Petty  disputes  and  breaches  of  the 
peace  were  settled  by  him  according  to  unwritten 
custom  and  his  native  shrewdness ;  and  he  was  also 
responsible  for  the  collection  of  the  land  tax  due  from 
the  village. 

The  people  in  this  part  of  Szechuan  seemed  fairly 
prosperous,  but  the  prevalence  of  goitre  was  very 
unpleasant.  The  natives  account  for  it  in  various 
ways,  —  the  use  of  white  salt  or  the  drinking  of  water 
made  from  melting  snow. 

On  the  2oth  of  April  we  reached  Hui-li-chou.  The 
approach  to  the  town  or  group  of  towns  which  make 
up  this,  the  largest  place  in  southern  Szechuan,  was 
charming,  through  high  hedges  gay  with  pink  and 
white  flowers.  In  the  suburbs  weaving  or  dyeing 
seemed  to  be  going  on  in  every  house.  Sometimes 
whole  streets  were  given  over  to  the  dyers,  naked 
men  at  work  above  huge  vats  filled  with  the  inevit- 
able blue  of  China.  After  crossing  the  half-dry  bed 
of  a  small  river  we  found  ourselves  under  the  great 
wall  of  Hui-li  proper.  Turning  in  at  the  South  Gate 


ACROSS  YUNNAN  69 

we  rapidly  traversed  the  town  to  our  night's  lodging- 
place  near  the  North  Gate,  the  crowds  becoming  ever 
denser,  people  swarming  out  from  the  restaurants 
and  side  streets,  as  the  news  spread  of  the  arrival  of 
a  "  yang-potsz "  (foreign  woman).  The  interest  was 
not  surprising,  as  I  was  only  the  third  or  fourth 
European  woman  to  come  this  way,  but  it  was  my 
first  experience  alone  in  a  large  town,  and  the  press- 
ing, staring  crowd  was  rather  dismaying ;  however,  I 
found  comfortable  companionship  in  the  smiling  face 
of  a  little  lad  running  beside  my  chair,  his  swift  feet 
keeping  pace  with  the  carriers.  I  smiled  back,  and 
when  the  heavy  doors  of  our  night's  lodging-house 
closed  behind  us,  I  found  the  small  gamin  was  inside, 
too,  —  self-installed  errand  boy.  He  proved  quick 
and  alert  beyond  the  common  run  of  boys,  East  or 
West,  and  made  himself  very  useful,  but  save  when 
out  on  errands  he  was  always  at  my  side,  watching 
me  with  dog-like  interest,  and  kowtowing  to  the 
ground  when  I  gave  him  a  small  reward.  The  next 
morning  he  was  on  duty  at  dawn,  and  trotted  beside 
my  chair  until  we  were  well  on  our  way,  when  I  sent 
him  back.  I  should  have  been  glad  to  have  borrowed 
or  bought  or  stolen  him. 

Hui-li-chou,  with  a  population  of  some  forty  thou- 
sand, is  in  the  middle  of  an  important  mining  region, 
both  zinc  and  copper  ore  being  found  in  the  neigh- 
bouring hills  in  good  quantity ;  but  the  bad  roads  and 


70  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

government  restrictions  combine  to  keep  down  in- 
dustry. In  spite  of  its  being  a  trading  centre  the  inns 
are  notoriously  bad,  and  we  were  fortunate  in  finding 
rooms  in  a  small  mission  chapel  maintained  by  a 
handful  of  native  Christians.  In  the  course  of  the 
evening  some  of  them  paid  me  a  call.  They  seemed 
intelligent  and  alert,  and  although  in  the  past  the 
town  has  had  an  unpleasant  reputation  for  hostility 
to  missions,  conditions  at  the  present  time  were  de- 
clared to  be  satisfactory. 


CHAPTER  IV 
THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG 

THE  second  day  after  leaving  Hui-li-chou  we 
entered  the  valley  of  the  Anning  Ho,  a  grey, 
fast-flowing  stream  whose  course  runs  parallel  with 
the  meridian  like  all  the  others  of  that  interesting 
group  of  rivers  between  Assam  and  eastern  Szechuan, 
the  Irrawaddy,  the  Sal  ween,  the  Mekong,  the  Yangtse, 
the  Yalung.  The  Anning,  the  smallest  of  these,  lies  en- 
closed in  a  wilderness  of  tangled  ranges,  and  its  val- 
ley forms  the  shortest  trade  route  between  Szechuan 
and  the  Indo-Chinese  peninsula.  For  about  eight 
marches,  north  and  south,  it  runs  through  a  district 
known  as  Chien-ch'ang,  celebrated  throughout  China 
for  its  fertility  and  the  variety  of  its  products.  At  the 
lower  end  the  valley  is  very  narrow,  and  level  ground 
is  limited,  but  the  gentle  slopes  on  either  side  are 
beautifully  cultivated  in  tiny  terraced  fields.  Farther 
north,  however,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Ning-yiian- 
fu,  the  valley  widens  out  into  a  broad,  open  plain. 
Apparently  in  this  favoured  region  tropics  and  tem- 
perate zone  meet,  for  I  never  saw  before  such  motley 
vegetation.  Rice  and  cotton  alternate  with  wheat  and 
maize  and  beans,  while  saffron  and  indigo  fit  in  any- 


72  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

where.  Fruits,  too,  of  many  kinds  are  abundant.  A 
short  time  ago  the  poppy  made  every  turn  brilliant, 
but  to-day  imperial  edicts,  ruthlessly  enforced,  are 
saving  the  Chinese  unwillingly  from  themselves,  and 
the  poppy  has  disappeared  from  sight.  In  spite  of 
complaints  it  would  seem  as  though  the  Chien-ch'ang 
farmers,  better  than  many  in  West  China,  could  sup- 
port the  loss  of  that  remunerative  crop,  for  their  re- 
sources, properly  exploited,  seem  almost  exhaustless. 
Mulberry  trees  are  grown  about  every  village  and 
•farmhouse,  and  the  silk  export  is  of  considerable  value 
to  the  community. 

But  one  of  the  most  interesting  products  of  this  re- 
gion has  lost  much  of  its  importance  in  late  years. 
All  over  China,  but  especially  in  this  part  of  Sze- 
chuan,  there  grows  a  tree  of  the  large-leaved  privet 
species.  On  the  bark  of  the  branches  and  twigs  are 
discovered  attached  little  brown  scales  of  the  size  and 
shape  of  a  small  pea.  When  opened  in  the  spring 
they  are  found  to  contain  a  swarming  mass  of  min- 
ute insects.  Toward  the  end  of  April,  the  time  when 
I  passed  through  this  region,  these  scales  were  being 
carefully  gathered  and  packed  in  small  parcels,  and 
already  the  journey  northward  was  beginning.  Por-r 
ters  bearing  loads  of  about  sixty  pounds  were  hurry- 
ing up  the  valley,  often  travelling  only  by  night  to 
save  their  precious  burden  from  the  burning  sun's 
rays  which  would  cause  too  rapid  development. 


THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  73 

Their  destination  was  Chia-ting,  which  lies  on  the 
Min  River  at  the  eastern  edge  of  a  great  plain,  the 
home  of  the  so-called  "pai-la  shu,"  or  "white  wax 
tree,"  a  species  of  ash.  The  whole  countryside  is 
dotted  over  with  this  tree,  so  cut  as  to  resemble  the 
pollard  willow.  On  arrival  the  scales  are  carefully 
made  up  into  small  packets  of  twenty  or  thirty  scales 
each,  wrapped  in  leaves  and  attached  to  the  branches 
of  the  white  wax  tree.  After  a  short  interval  the  in- 
sects emerge  from  the  scales  and  secrete  a  waxlike 
substance,  covering  the  boughs  and  twigs  with  a 
white  deposit  about  a  quarter  of  an  inch  thick.  This 
is  carefully  gathered,  and  after  purification  by  boil- 
ing is  made  up  into  the  small  cakes  of  commerce  to 
be  put  to  various  uses.  It  forms  an  important  ingre- 
dient in  sizing  and  polish,  and  also  in  giving  a  gloss 
to  silk ;  but  especially  it  is  valued  as  imparting  a 
greater  consistency  to  tallow  for  candles,  as  it  melts 
only  at  a  temperature  of  160°  Fahrenheit.  But  the 
Standard  Oil  activities  have  dealt  a  serious  blow  to 
the  white  wax  industry.  Kerosene  is  now  in  general 
use  where  there  is  any  lighting  at  all,  and  whereas 
formerly  ten  thousand  coolies  annually  hurried  up 
the  valley  carrying  scales  to  Chia-ting,  we  now  saw 
only  a  few  hundred. 

A  generation  ago  Chien-ch'ang  was  perhaps  the 
least  known  part  of  all  China  to  the  outside  world. 
About  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century  the  Mon- 


74  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

gol,  Kublai  Khan,  acting  as  general  of  the  forces  of 
his  brother,  Genghis  Khan,  went  through  here  to  the 
conquest  of  Tali,  then  an  independent  kingdom  in  the 
southwest,  and  the  untiring  Venetian  following  in 
his  train  noted  a  few  of  the  characteristics  of  Caindu, 
the  name  he  gave  both  to  the  valley  and  the  capital 
city.  Six  centuries  elapsed  before  the  next  traveller 
from  the  West  came  this  way.  In  the  late  seventies 
Colborne  Baber,  Chinese  Secretary  of  the  British  Le- 
gation, traversed  the  valley  from  north  to  south,  be- 
ing the  first  European  since  the  time  of  Marco  Polo 
to  enter  Ning-yiian-fu,  save  for  an  unfortunate  French 
priest  who  arrived  a  few  months  earlier,  only  to  be 
driven  out  with  stones.  At  that  time,  according  to 
Baber,  "  two  or  three  sentences  in  the  book  of  Ser 
Marco  to  the  effect  that  after  crossing  high  mountains 
he  reached  a  fertile  country  containing  many  villages 
and  towns,  and  inhabited  by  a  very  immoral  popula- 
tion," constituted  the  only  existing  description  of  the 
district. 

In  spite  of  the  importance  of  this  route  it  remained 
until  a  few  years  ago  very  insecure.  Overhung  al- 
most its  entire  length  by  the  inaccessible  fastnesses 
of  Lololand,  the  passing  caravans  dared  journey  only 
with  convoy,  and  even  then  were  frequently  over- 
whelmed by  raiders  from  the  hills,  who  carried  off 
both  trader  and  goods  into  the  mountains,  the  former 
to  lifelong  servitude.  The  Ta  Liang  Shan,  or  "  Great 


THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  75 

Cold  Mountains/*  the  country  of  the  independent 
Lolos,  is  a  mountainous  region  extending  north  and 
south  some  three  hundred  miles,  which  constitutes  to 
this  day  an  almost  impenetrable  barrier  between  east 
and  west,  crossed  voluntarily  by  no  Chinese,  unless 
in  force,  and  from  which  but  one  European  party  has 
returned  to  tell  the  tale.  On  the  outskirts  of  this  ter- 
ritory a  little  mission  work  has  been  undertaken  with 
some  success,  but  as  yet  no  real  impression  has  been 
made  upon  the  people.  Chinese  hold  upon  the  country 
is  limited  to  an  occasional  more  or  less  ineffective 
punitive  expedition  organized  after  some  unusual 
outrage,  such  as  the  murder,  a  few  years  back,  of 
Lieutenant  Brooke,  the  English  explorer.  Naturally 
the  Government  does  not  care  to  assume  any  respon- 
sibility for  the  foolhardy  foreigner  bent  on  risking 
his  life.  Lieutenant  Brooke  went  without  permission, 
and  during  my  stay  in  Ning-yuan  I  learned  that 
two  French  travellers  had  just  sought  in  vain  for 
leave  to  attempt  the  crossing  of  the  mountains  to 
Suifu. 

Within  Lololand,  of  course,  no  Chinese  writ  runs, 
no  Chinese  magistrate  holds  sway,  and  the  people, 
more  or  less  divided  among  themselves,  are  under 
the  government  of  their  tribal  chiefs.  The  little  that 
is  known  of  this  interesting  race  has  been  learned 
from  the  so-called  tame  Lolos  who  have  accepted 
Chinese  rule,  and  are  found  scattered  in  small  villages 


76  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

in  the  western  part  of  Szechuan  and  Yunnan,  being 
perhaps  most  numerous  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
Anning  and  Yalung  rivers,  where  an  appreciable  pro- 
portion of  the  population  is  of  aboriginal  or  mixed 
aboriginal  and  Chinese  stock.  Accepting  Chinese 
rule  does  not  generally  mean  accepting  Chinese  cus- 
toms. They  hold  to  their  own  language  and  religion, 
one  a  dialect  akin  to  Tibetan,  and  the  other  a  form 
of  animism.  It  is  very  easy  to  distinguish  conquerors 
and  conquered,  for  the  Lolos  are  darker  as  well  as 
taller  and  better  formed  than  the  Chinese.  Their  fea- 
tures are  good  and  they  have  a  frank,  direct  expres- 
sion which  is  very  attractive.  In  dress  also  they  have 
not  conformed  to  the  ways  of  their  masters.  Instead 
of  a  queue  the  men  wear  the  hair  in  a  horn  above  the 
forehead,  while  the  women  hold  firmly  to  the  femi- 
nine petticoats,  surrounded  though  they  are  by  the 
trousered  Chinese  women.  Nor  do  they  bind  their 
feet,  but  stride  bravely  along  on  the  feet  nature  gave 
them. 

What  these  people  really  are  is  one  of  the  unsettled 
ethnological  problems  of  the  East,  but  probably  they 
are  of  the  same  stock  as  the  Shans  and  Burmese. 
Even  their  proper  appellation  is  in  doubt.  The  Chi- 
nese call  them  Lolos,  which  means  simply  "  bar- 
barians" or  "wild  men."  By  the  people  themselves 
the  term  is  regarded  as  insulting,  and  one  should 
avoid  using  it  before  them  ;  but  they  are  not  agreed 


THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  77 

among  themselves  on  a  common  name,  and  use  or- 
dinarily local  tribal  names. 

Half  a  dozen  years  ago  travellers  were  warned 
against  the  dangers  of  the  road,  but  since  then  mat- 
ters have  been  taken  vigorously  in  hand  by  the  Chi- 
nese authorities.  Guard-houses  have  been  erected  at 
short  intervals,  the  passes  are  strongly  fortified,  and 
a  large  force  of  well-trained  men  is  stationed  per- 
manently in  the  valley.  The  journey  can  now  be  made 
in  entire  safety,  but  there  are  numerous  signs  of  past 
dangers,  and  the  precautions  taken  are  very  evident. 
Perhaps  I  was  made  especially  conscious  of  possible 
danger  because,  as  my  interpreter  said,  though  the 
officials  were  careful  to  secure  the  safety  of  every  one 
of  us,  they  were  particularly  anxious  that  nothing 
should  happen  to  me ;  not,  of  course,  from  any  per- 
sonal concern  for  the  foreigner,  but  because  the  for- 
eigner's Government  has  such  a  way  of  making  things 
unpleasant  if  anything  happens  to  him. 

From  Hui-li-chou  northwards  I  was  escorted  by 
real  soldiers,  quite  of  the  new  service.  They  looked 
rather  shipshape  in  khaki  suits  and  puttees,  and  their 
guns  were  of  a  good  model,  but  they  handled  them  in 
careless  fashion  at  first,  belabouring  laden  ponies  and 
even  coolies  who  were  slow  in  getting  out  of  the  way 
of  my  chair.  I  am  told  that  they  are  very  ready  to  lord 
it  over  their  countrymen  when  escorting  Europeans, 
taking  advantage  of  the  fearful  respect  in  which  the 


78  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

foreigner  is  held.  I  checked  them  vigorously  at  the 
time,  and  before  the  next  morning's  start  I  called 
them  up,  and  with  the  aid  of  the  interpreter  harangued 
them  to  the  effect  that  I  was  pleased  to  see  that  they 
knew  how  to  use  their  guns,  and  if  need  came  I  hoped 
they  would  give  a  good  account  of  themselves  in 
China's  defence,  but  in  the  mean  time  they  should  be 
very  slow  to  use  their  weapons  on  men  or  beasts,  and 
if  I  saw  them  do  it  while  they  were  with  me  they 
would  get  no  "  wine  money."  The  soldiers  took  my 
orders  very  meekly,  and  the  bystanders  (there  are 
always  bystanders  in  China)  grinned  approvingly. 

The  first  two  marches  out  from  Hui-li  led  over  the 
range  into  the  Anning  valley,  a  high,  rocky  trail 
without  much  vegetation  for  the  most  part,  but  after 
we  struck  the  river,  cultivation  was  almost  continu- 
ous, one  hamlet  following  fast  on  another.  This  part 
of  the  valley  is  available  for  irrigation,  and  the  skill 
and  ingenuity  shown  in  making  use  of  the  water  sup- 
ply is  nothing  short  of  marvellous.  At  one  point  we 
ascended  a  long,  wide,  gentle  slope  all  laid  out  in  tiny 
fields,  and  well  watered  from  two  large,  fast-flowing 
streams.  But  where  did  they  come  from,  for  the  slope 
ended  abruptly  in  a  sharp,  high  precipice  overlooking 
a  gorge  through  which  flowed  the  Chin  Ch'uan,  a 
tributary  of  the  Anning.  But  on  turning  a  corner  at 
the  head  of  the  slope  we  saw  that  from  high  up  on 
the  mountain-side  an  artificial  channel  had  been  con- 


THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  79 

structed  with  infinite  labour,  bringing  water  from 
the  upper  course  of  the  stream  to  the  thirsty  fields 
below. 

Late  on  this  same  day  the  trail  crossed  a  bare, 
rocky  hillside,  at  one  point  passing  between  masses 
of  stone  ruins  ;  something  like  a  tower  to  the  right, 
and  on  the  left  a  sort  of  walled  enclosure.  I  had 
lingered  behind  to  gather  a  nosegay  of  the  small  blue 
flowers  that  marked  the  day's  march.  As  I  ap- 
proached I  saw  some  twenty  or  thirty  men  clad  in 
long  white  or  black  cloaks  hanging  about  the  ruins, 
and  my  big  chair  coolie,  who  had  constituted  him- 
self my  special  protector,  coming  to  meet  me,  hurried 
me  by  without  stopping.  When  I  joined  the  inter- 
preter, who  was  waiting  for  me  at  a  discreet  distance, 
I  learned  that  the  men  were  Lolos,  "  half-tame  wild 
men,"  employed  by  merchants  and  others  to  guard 
this  rather  dangerous  place  where  the  trail  approached 
somewhat  closely  the  territory  of  the  independent 
Lolos.  In  spite  of  protests  I  went  back,  accompanied 
by  the  big  coolie  and  a  soldier,  to  take  some  pictures. 
A  few  of  the  men  ran  away,  but  most  made  no  ob- 
jection and  good-humouredly  grouped  themselves  at 
my  direction  while  I  photographed  them  as  best  I 
could  in  the  waning  light.  Their  independent  bearing 
and  bold,  free  look  interested  me,  and  I  should  have 
been  glad  to  talk  with  them,  but  the  interpreter  was 
disinclined  to  come  near,  and  it  was  doubtful,  too,  if 


8o  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

they  could  have  spoken  Chinese  well  enough  to  have 
been  understood. 

The  25th  of  April  was  our  last  day  into  Ning-yiian- 
fu,  and  I  was  glad ;  it  was  getting  very  hot,  and  the 
coolies  were  tired  from  their  long  journey.  Several 
were  hiring  substitutes  from  the  village-folk,  paying 
less  than  half  what  they  received  from  me.  To  avoid 
the  heat  we  were  off  before  sunrise.  Often  on  that 
part  of  the  trip  we  started  in  the  half-light  of  the  early 
dawn,  and  there  was  something  very  delightful  in 
our  unnoticed  departure  through  the  empty,  echoing 
streets  of  the  sleeping  town  where,  the  evening  before, 
the  whole  population  had  been  at  our  heels.  And 
outside  the  stifling  walls  the  joy  of  another  day's  ride 
through  a  new  world  was  awaiting  me. 

For  a  time  we  followed  up  the  narrow,  winding 
valley,  gradually  opening  out  until  we  turned  off  to 
cross  the  low  hills  that  barred  the  southern  end  of 
the  Ning-yiian  plain.  Every  inch  of  ground  was 
under  cultivation,  but  as  yet  few  crops  were  up.  Mul- 
berries, however,  were  ripening  fast,  forerunners  of 
the  abundant  fruit  of  this  region.  Shortly  before 
tiffin  we  crossed  a  stream  over  which  the  bridge  of 
stone  was  actually  being  repaired.  In  China,  as  else- 
where in  Asia,  it  is  a  work  of  merit  to  construct  a 
new  building  or  road,  but  waste  of  time  to  repair  the 
old.  I  wondered  if  by  any  chance  some  high  official 
was  expected,  for  the  East  fulfils  quite  literally  the 


LOLO   GIRLS 


TAME,    WILD  "    LOLOS 


THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  81 

Scriptural  injunction,  "  Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the 
Lord,  make  straight  his  path  before  him " ;  more 
than  once  I  realized  the  advantage  of  following  in 
the  footsteps  of  the  great. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  day  we  crossed  a  spur  of 
the  hills,  and  descended  abruptly  into  the  Ning-yuan 
plain ;  half  concealed  among  the  trees  lay  the  town, 
while  off  to  the  southeast  sparkled  the  water  of  the 
lake  noted  by  Marco  Polo.  As  we  sat  resting  for  a 
few  moments  at  a  tea-house,  I  saw  galloping  towards 
us  two  horsemen,  Europeans,  the  first  I  had  seen  for 
nearly  three  weeks.  They  turned  out  to  be  Mr.  Well- 
wood  and  Dr.  Humphreys,  of  the  American  Baptist 
Mission,  who  had  ridden  out  to  make  me  welcome. 
An  hour  later  we  crossed  the  parade  ground  outside 
the  city  gate,  and  shortly,  turning  in  by  a  building  of 
unmistakable  European  architecture,  found  ourselves 
in  the  mission  compound.  It  was  most  delightful  to 
be  again  among  my  own  kind,  and  the  three  days 
spent  in  Ning-yuan  while  I  was  reorganizing  my  little 
caravan  for  the  next  stage  were  very  enjoyable,  bar- 
ring the  excessive  heat. 

Ning-yiian-fu  is  the  largest  town  in  this  part  of 
Szechuan,  having  a  population  of  perhaps  fifty  thou- 
sand. It  is  surrounded  by  a  well-built  wall,  high  and 
broad  and  nearly  three  miles  in  length.  Within  are 
few  buildings  of  interest,  due  perhaps  to  the  fact  that 
about  fifty  years  ago  it  was  almost  demolished  by  an 


82  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

earthquake.  According  to  tradition,  the  same  thing 
happened  in  the  early  part  of  the  Ming  period,  when 
the  town,  which,  so  it  is  said,  then  stood  in  the  hollow 
where  the  lake  now  lies,  was  first  shaken  by  an  earth- 
quake and  then  overwhelmed  by  a  rush  of  water 
from  underground.  Later  a  new  city  was  built  on  the 
present  site.  If  the  natives  are  to  be  believed,  the 
ruins  of  the  drowned  city  may  still  be  seen  on  calm 
days  lying  at  the  bottom  of  the  lake,  while  after  a 
storm  beds  and  chairs  of  strange  patterns  are  some- 
times found  floating  about  on  the  water. 

Even  this  remote  corner  of  China  shows  the  influ- 
ence of  the  new  movement,  and  Western  ideas  are 
making  their  way.  Something  had  been  done  to  im- 
prove the  city  schools,  and  I  can  testify  to  the  desire 
of  the  military  force  stationed  at  Ning-yiian  to  form 
itself  on  European  models,  for  the  morning's  sleep 
was  broken  by  the  vigorous  bugle  practice  of  the  band, 
and  at  every  turn  one  met  soldiers,  marching  along 
with  a  good  deal  of  vim.  The  large  parade  ground 
was  given  over  in  the  afternoon  to  the  testing  and 
speeding  of  ponies.  We  rode  out  there  one  day,  and 
I  was  pleased  to  see  that  the  interest  and  wise  ways 
of  the  missionaries  in  horseflesh  were  much  appre- 
ciated by  the  owners  of  the  ponies,  men  of  a  class  not 
easily  reached  by  the  ordinary  channels  of  mission 
work. 

As  my  contract  with  the  Yunnan  hong  was  only  to 


THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  83 

Ning-yiian-fu,  it  was  necessary  to  make  new  arrange- 
ments here.  My  old  men  had  expressed  a  wish  to  go 
on  with  me,  but  in  the  end  only  one  did  so,  the  others 
disliking  the  detour  to  Tachienlu  which  they  knew  I 
had  in  mind.  Moreover,  it  would  have  been  necessary 
for  them  to  register  in  the  Ming-yuan  hong,  which 
they  were  not  anxious  to  do,  nor  was  the  hong  anx- 
ious to  have  them.  So  I  let  them  go,  well  contented 
with  their  "wine  money,"  which  was,  indeed,  out- 
rageously large.  Soon  after  starting  from  Yunnan-fu 
I  had  realized  that  the  men  were  inclined  to  ask  for  a 
day's  halt  more  frequently  than  I  liked,  as  I  was  anx- 
ious to  push  ahead,  knowing  that  the  spring  rains 
were  shortly  due.  I  did  not  know  then  the  custom  of 
the  road,  which  decrees  no  payment  at  all  if  it  is  the 
coolies  who  insist  on  stopping,  although  a  small  pay- 
ment, usually  five  cents  gold,  is  the  rule  for  each  day 
of  halt  for  your  convenience.  So  I  felt  that  my  only 
check  upon  the  men  was  to  hold  out  a  reward.  Ac- 
cordingly I  offered  them  a  definite  tip  and  a  good  one, 
if  they  would  get  me  to  Ning-yiian-fu  at  a  certain 
day,  which  they  did,  making  the  journey,  as  I  learned 
later,  simply  in  the  ordinary  time.  I  was  advised  not 
to  pay  them  the  sum  promised,  as  they  were  profiting 
by  my  ignorance,  and  it  might  make  me  trouble  after- 
wards. But  I  reasoned  that  my  ignorance  was  my 
own  fault ;  they  had  not  asked,  I  had  offered  the  re- 
ward, and  I  was  sure  the  evil  of  a  broken  promise  was 


84  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

greater  than  any  bad  precedent.  So  the  men  got  their 
tip,  and  I  am  certain  I  gained  by  the  reputation  I  thus 
acquired  of  keeping  my  word.  I  never  again  gave 
such  rewards,  but  I  always  had  good  service. 

I  was  sorry  to  see  the  Yunnan  men  go;  they  were 
sturdy,  willing  fellows,  quick  to  learn  my  ways.  In 
particular,  one  of  my  chair  coolies,  the  big  fellow 
called  Liu,  I  should  have  been  glad  to  keep  on,  in 
spite  of  unexpected  revelations  at  Ning-yiian.  He 
had  made  the  trip  from  Yunnan  with  Mr.  Wellwood 
a  few  weeks  earlier,  behaving  well,  but  after  receiv- 
ing his  pay  he  got  gloriously  drunk  and  was  expelled 
from  the  inn,  whereupon  he  turned  up  at  the  mission, 
still  drunk.  As  he  was  not  taken  in,  he  proceeded  to 
tear  up  the  chapel  palings  and  make  himself  a  nuis- 
ance. So  after  repeated  warnings  he  was  turned  over 
to  the  police,  who  shut  him  up  for  a  night  and  then 
gave  him  a  whipping.  Probably  he  had  learned  a  les- 
son, for  he  made  me  no  bother.  This  was  the  only 
case  within  my  own  knowledge  of  a  coolie's  giving 
trouble  through  drinking.  Out-of-the-way  travel  in 
the  East  is  much  simpler  for  being  among  non-drink- 
ing people.  Years  ago  I  made  a  canoeing  trip  in  north- 
ern Maine  with  two  friends.  Almost  we  were  forced 
to  rob  the  traditional  cradle  and  grave  to  secure  guides 
warranted  sober  —  the  only  sort  safe  for  a  party  of 
women  ;  but  in  the  East  that  question  is  scarcely  con- 
sidered, and  personally  I  have  never  had  any  difficulty. 


THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  85 

The  men  that  I  took  on  at  Ning-yiian  were  on  the 
whole  younger  and  smaller  than  the  Yunnan  men, 
but  they  too  did  their  work  well.  The  new  fu  t'ou  was 
a  Chengtu  man  of  a  type  quite  unlike  the  others,  tall, 
slender,  well  made,  and  with  decidedly  good  features. 
He  seemed  young  for  his  post,  but  soon  showed  himself 
quite  equal  to  the  task  of  keeping  the  men  up  to  the 
mark,  and  of  meeting  any  difficulty  that  arose. 

To  my  surprise  I  was  able  to  buy  oil  for  our  lan- 
terns on  the  street  here.  One  does  not  think  of  the 
Standard  Oil  Company  as  a  missionary  agency,  but 
it  has  certainly  done  a  great  deal  to  light  up  the  dark 
corners  of  China,  morally  as  well  as  physically,  by  pro- 
viding the  people  with  a  cheap  way  of  lighting  their 
houses.  Formerly  when  darkness  fell,  there  was  noth- 
ing to  do  but  gamble  and  smoke.  Now  the  industrious 
Chinese  can  ply  his  trade  as  late  as  he  chooses. 

I  was  sorry  to  say  farewell  to  my  kind  hosts,  but  it 
was  good  to  get  away  from  the  trying  heat  of  Ning- 
yuan  plain,  all  the  more  oppressive  because  of  the 
confined  limits  of  the  mission  quarters  set  in  the 
heart  of  the  city.  The  only  escape  for  the  missionaries 
during  the  hot  months  was  to  a  temple  on  one  of  the 
surrounding  hills.  I  was  glad  to  learn  that  land  had 
been  secured  at  a  little  distance  from  the  present 
compound  for  more  spacious  accommodations.  People 
at  home  do  not  realize  the  difficulty  of  getting  fresh 
air  and  exercise  in  a  Chinese  town.  Walking  inside 


86  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

the  walls  is  almost  impossible  because  of  the  dirt  and 
crowds,  while  near  the  city  all  unoccupied  land  is 
usually  given  over  to  graves.  In  Ning-yiian  really 
the  only  chance  for  exercise  short  of  a  half-day's  ex- 
cursion, perhaps,  was  on  the  city  wall,  where  I  had  a 
delightful  ride  one  afternoon. 

It  was  the  morning  of  April  29,  when  we  finally 
started,  my  caravan  being  now  increased  to  seventeen 
men,  as  I  had  advanced  the  interpreter  to  a  three- 
bearer  chair  and  given  his  old  one  to  the  cook,  who 
as  a  Szechuan  man  should  have  been  able  to  walk. 
But  he  seemed  hardly  up  to  it,  —  in  fact  he  gave  me 
the  impression  of  an  elderly  man,  although  he  owned 
to  forty-one  years  only.  It  needs  a  trained  eye,  I 
imagine,  to  judge  of  the  age  of  men  of  an  alien  race. 

On  passing  out  from  the  suburbs  of  the  town, 
charmingly  embowered  in  fruit  orchards,  we  struck 
across  the  open,  treeless  plain.  There  was  little  land 
that  could  be  cultivated  that  was  not  under  cultiva- 
tion, but  as  yet  the  fields  lay  bare  and  baked  in  the 
burning  sun,  waiting  the  belated  rain,  as  this  part  of 
the  valley  cannot  be  irrigated,  owing  to  the  lie  of  the 
land.  Rain  fell  the  first  night,  and  after  that  neither 
the  soil  nor  I  could  complain  of  dryness.  Our  first  stop 
was  at  Li-chou,  a  small,  comfortable  town  at  the  head 
of  the  valley,  with  a  bad  inn.  It,  not  Ning-yiian, 
which  lies  a  little  off  the  main  trail,  is  the  centre 
of  the  carrying  business  between  Yunnan  and  the 


THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  87 

north,  and  from  this  time  on,  we  found  the  village 
population  everywhere  chiefly  occupied  as  carrier 
coolies. 

Our  first  day  from  Li-chou  was  a  short  stage,  and 
we  had  a  long,  leisurely  tiffin  at  Sung-lin,  where  there 
was  an  exceptionally  good  inn.  The  proprietor  was 
away,  but  his  wife,  who  was  in  charge,  seemed  very 
competent  and  friendly,  and  took  me  into  their  pri- 
vate rooms,  fairly  clean  and  airy,  and  quite  spacious. 
In  one  was  a  large,  grave-shaped  mound  of  cement- 
like  substance.  On  inquiry  I  learned  that  it  enclosed 
the  coffin  and  body  of  the  mother  of  the  proprietor. 
She  had  been  dead  a  year,  but  the  body  could  not 
receive  final  burial  until  his  return.  The  Chinese  cus- 
tom of  keeping  unburied  their  dead  awaiting  a  pro- 
pitious moment  strikes  one  as  most  unpleasant  and 
unwholesome,  but  the  worst  consequences  are  usually 
avoided  by  hermetically  sealing  the  ponderous  coffin. 
In  Canton  the  House  of  the  Dead  is  visited  by  all 
travellers.  It  is  a  great  stretch  of  small  buildings  set 
in  flower  gardens,  each  room  commanding  a  definite 
rent,  and  usually  occupied  by  the  waiting  dead,  whose 
fancied  wants  are  meantime  carefully  supplied.  The 
dead  hand  rests  heavy  on  China.  Not  merely  is  much 
valuable  land  given  over  to  graves,  and  the  hills  de- 
nuded of  forest  to  make  the  five-inch  coffin  boards, 
but  the  daily  order  of  life  is  often  unduly  sacrificed 
to  the  departed. 


88  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

On  my  way  from  Calcutta  to  Hong  Kong  there 
joined  us  at  Singapore  the  Chinese  Consul-General 
at  that  place.  He  was  returning  with  his  family  to 
Canton  to  attend  the  funeral  of  his  mother.  In  talk 
with  him  I  learned  that  he  had  been  one  of  that 
famous  group  of  students  who  came  to  America  in 
the  seventies,  only  to  be  suddenly  recalled  by  the 
Chinese  Government.  He  had  since  acted  as  Secre- 
tary to  the  Chinese  Legation  in  Washington,  and 
was  quite  at  home  in  Western  ways.  In  his  dress  he 
combined  very  effectively  both  Chinese  and  occi- 
dental symbols  of  mourning,  his  white  coat-sleeve 
being  adorned  with  a  band  of  black  crape,  while  in 
the  long  black  queue  he  wore  braided  the  white 
mourning  thread  of  China.  He  expected  to  be  at  home 
for  some  months,  and  during  that  time,  so  he  told 
me,  it  would  be  unsuitable  for  him  to  engage  in  any 
sort  of  worldly  business. 

We  were  now  leaving  behind  the  close  cultivation  of 
the  Chien-ch'ang;  the  valley  grew  narrower,  hemmed 
in  by  higher  and  more  barren  mountains,  but  the  wild 
roses  made  beautiful  every  turn.  One  village  that  we 
passed  was  quite  surrounded  by  a  hedge  of  roses  sev- 
eral feet  high,  and  all  in  full  bloom.  My  second  night 
from  Ning-yuan-fu  was  not  much  better  than  the  first, 
for  the  inn  at  Lu-ku,  a  rather  important  little  town, 
was  most  uncomfortable;  but  a  delightful  hour's  rest 
and  quiet  on  the  river  bank  before  entering  the  town 


THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  89 

freshened  me  up  so  much  that  the  night  did  not  mat- 
ter. One  march  to  the  north  of  Lu-ku,  up  the  valley 
of  the  Anning,  lay  the  district  town  of  Mien-ning, 
reached  by  a  rough  trail  that  finally  wandered  off  into 
the  inextricable  gorges  of  the  Ta  Tu  Ho.  It  was  in 
these  wild  defiles  that  the  last  contests  of  the  Taiping 
rebellion  were  fought.  I  looked  longingly  up  the  val- 
ley, but  my  way  turned  off  to  the  right,  following  the 
pack-road  to  the  ferry  at  Fulin.  At  once  on  starting 
the  next  morning  we  passed  out  of  the  main  valley 
into  a  narrow  gorge  with  precipitous  sides  opening 
from  the  east.  The  trail  wound  upwards  along  the 
mountain-face,  often  hewn  out  of  the  rock  and  scarcely 
more  than  five  feet  wide,  and  at  one  point  it  was 
barred  effectually  by  heavy  gates.  They  opened  to 
us,  but  not  on  that  day  half  a  century  ago  when  the 
Taiping  leader,  Shih  Ta-k'ai,  failing  to  force  his  way 
through,  turned  back  to  meet  defeat  in  the  wilds  above 
Mien-ning-hsien. 

All  along  the  road  we  met  signs  of  our  nearness  to 
the  country  of  the  Lolos.  There  was  much  unculti- 
vated land,  and  the  population  seemed  scanty,  but 
officials  and  soldiers  were  numerous,  while  guard- 
houses dominated  the  trail  at  short  intervals.  The 
village  type  was  not  always  pure  Chinese,  and  occa- 
sionally we  met  people  unmistakably  of  another  race. 
At  Teng-hsiang-ying,  or  "  Strong- walled  Camp," 
where  we  stopped  for  the  night,  both  soldiers  and 


90  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

Lolos  were  much  in  evidence.  We  were  here  about 
two  thousand  one  hundred  feet  below  the  summit  of 
the  great  pass  through  which  the  raiders  in  times  not 
far  past  made  their  way  into  fertile  Chien-ch'ang. 
After  getting  settled  in  the  inn,  I  went  for  a  walk, 
carefully  guarded  by  two  soldiers  especially  detailed 
for  the  purpose  by  the  Yamen.  In  one  alley  I  noticed 
Lolo  women  spinning  in  the  doorways,  and  with  the 
aid  of  the  soldiers,  who  seemed  to  be  on  very  friendly 
terms  with  them,  I  succeeded  in  getting  a  picture  of 
two.  In  feature  and  colour  they  might  have  passed 
for  Italians,  and  their  dress  was  more  European  than 
Chinese  in  cut.  On  their  heads  they  wore  the  Tarn 
o'  Shanter-like  cap  of  black  stuff,  common  among 
these  people,  bound  on  with  their  long  braids,  and 
their  coats  were  of  the  usual  felt.  Their  skirts,  home- 
spun, were  made  with  what  we  used  to  call  a  Span- 
ish flounce.  According  to  Baber,  the  Lolo  petticoat 
is  of  great  significance.  No  one  may  go  among  the 
independent  Lolos  safely  save  in  the  guardianship  of 
a  member  of  the  tribe,  and  a  woman  is  as  good  a 
guardian  as  a  man.  Before  setting  out  she  puts  on  an 
extra  petticoat,  and  the  traveller  thus  escorted  is  sa- 
cred. But  if  the  guarantee  is  not  respected  she  takes 
off  the  garment,  spreading  it  on  the  ground,  and 
there  it  remains,  telling  to  all  the  outrage  that  has 
been  committed,  and  appealing  to  Heaven  for  re- 
dress. Altogether  the  women  that  I  saw  had  a  rather 


THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  91 

attractive,  feminine  look,  and  their  manner,  though 
timid,  was  not  cringing.  People  who  know  them  best 
have  a  good  word  for  the  Lolos,  but  few  Europeans 
have  come  much  in  contact  with  them.  Those  I  saw 
looked  miserably  poor.  Missionaries  declare  that  the 
hand  of  the  official  is  heavy  upon  them,  and  of  course 
the  persistent,  hard-working  Chinese  are  certain  to 
have  acquired  the  best  land. 

The  next  day  we  crossed  the  Hsiao  Hsiang  Ling, 
or  "  Little  Elephant  Pass,"  fortunately  in  fine  weather. 
The  approach  from  the  south  was  very  beautiful. 
For  a  number  of  li  our  road  led  through  a  deep,  nar- 
row gorge,  following  up  a  fine  rocky  stream,  The 
flowers  and  blossoming  shrubs  were  wonderful ;  masses 
of  white  and  of  pink  azaleas  clothed  the  lower  slopes, 
and  there  appeared  now  for  the  first  time  a  bush  bear- 
ing long,  feather-like  sprays  of  fragrant  white  blooms. 
From  time  to  time  we  passed  a  guard-house,  and 
soldiers  were  everywhere,  some  on  guard,  others 
practising  exercises,  others  lounging.  At  one  place 
a  group  had  gathered  about  a  fellow  who  was  play- 
ing rather  nicely  an  instrument  resembling  a  mando- 
lin. He  seemed  gratified  at  my  interest,  and  readily 
repeated  his  music  for  me.  As  seen  in  passing,  the 
guard-houses  looked  clean  and  substantial,  vastly 
superior  to  the  ordinary  Chinese  abode.  But  the 
country  had  a  rather  forbidding  aspect  as  we  marched 
farther  up  the  valley,  fit  setting  for  deeds  of  outrage 


92  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

and  bloodshed ;  its  character  seemed  symbolized  in 
the  head  of  a  Lolo  robber  set  up  by  the  wayside. 

The  final  climb  to  the  pass  was  over  gentle,  grassy 
slopes.  At  the  top,  nearly  ten  thousand  feet  above 
sea  level,  the  way  led  through  a  strongly  fortified 
post  where  I  stopped  for  a  few  moments  to  enjoy  the 
wide  view,  northwest  to  the  nearer  mountains  of  the 
Tibetan  range,  and  east  to  the  dark  peaks  of  the 
Ta  Liang  Shan.  On  the  northern  side  of  the  pass 
the  descent  is  long  and  tiring,  a  succession  of  steep 
zigzags  and  rocky  staircases.  At  the  time  of  day  when 
I  crossed,  the  lines  of  carriers  and  baggage  ponies 
were  almost  continuous.  There  were  guard-houses  at 
intervals  of  three  li,  and  at  each  a  special  detail  of 
two  soldiers  came  out,  and,  saluting  me  properly,  fell 
into  position,  one  in  front  and  one  behind,  to  be  re- 
placed at  the  next  post  by  two  others.  As  we  de- 
scended to  lower  levels  the  valley  widened  out  slightly, 
giving  room  for  a  few  hard-wrung  fields  surrounded 
by  broad  stone  walls  reminding  one  of  New  England, 
and  now  and  then  we  passed  a  lonely  farmhouse  built 
of  stones  and  enclosed  in  a  rather  ineffective  defence 
of  wattles.  But  villages  were  few,  hardly  more  than 
hamlets  that  had  grown  up  about  the  military  posts. 
All  were  walled,  and  where  the  highway  passed 
through  the  village,  dividing  it  in  two,  each  half  was 
enclosed  in  its  own  high  wall  of  mud  and  stones. 
Moreover,  many  of  the  houses  were  of  fortress-like 


A   MEMORIAL  ARCH.      SZECHUAN 


FORTIFIED   VILLAGE   IN  THE   CHIEN-CH'ANG   VALLEY 


THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  93 

construction,  three  stories  high,  and  with  only  a  few 
slits  for  windows.  Once  or  twice  we  passed  through 
an  open  bazaar  strongly  walled  and  with  a  fortified 
gate  at  either  end,  serving  as  a  brief  resting-place  for 
the  caravans  hurrying  over  this  dangerous  stretch  of 
road. 

As  we  travelled  northward  we  saw  fewer  of  the  fine 
stone  bridges  of  the  south  ;  the  construction  was  now 
generally  of  wood,  not  unlike  in  outline  the  disfigur- 
ing structures  of  New  England,  but  improved  by  open 
sides  and  a  picturesque  curly  roof  of  tiles.  Usually 
they  were  approached  by  a  flight  of  steps,  showing 
conclusively,  if  proof  were  needed,  that  there  were 
no  wheeled  vehicles  to  consider.  And,  indeed,  traffic 
generally  was  of  limited  character  after  we  left  the 
pass.  Occasionally  we  overtook  coolies  hurrying 
along  with  their  precious  loads  of  white  wax  insects, 
or  bending  under  long,  thick  pine  or  cypress  boards, 
sometimes  towering  high  above  their  heads  or  else 
strapped  across  their  shoulders,  forcing  them  to  move 
crab-fashion  along  the  narrow  trails.  On  inquiry  I 
learned  that  deeply  embedded  in  the  soil  of  the  hills 
are  found  huge  trees,  rows  of  sprouts  marking  their 
location.  These  are  dug  up  with  much  effort  and  sawn 
into  boards  which  are  in  great  request  for  the  pon- 
derous Chinese  coffins.  It  would  seem  as  though  the 
supply  must  be  inexhaustible,  for  when  Sir  Alexander 
Hosie  came  this  way,  a  generation  ago,  he  noted  the 


94  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

same  traffic  and  received  the  same  explanation.  With 
the  prohibition  of  the  poppy,  the  region  has  for  the 
moment  little  export  trade,  while  the  imports  seem 
to  consist  mainly  of  military  supplies  for  the  Chien- 
ch'ang  garrisons.  However,  the  road  is  in  unusually 
good  condition,  for  the  whole  way  from  Teng-hsiang- 
ying  to  Yiieh-hsi,  our  next  stop,  a  distance  of  perhaps 
thirty-five  miles,  is  well  paved  with  broad  flags.  As 
we  drew  near  to  the  town  the  valley  opened  a  little, 
affording  a  glimpse  of  a  snow  peak  to  the  north,  while 
toward  the  southeast  we  look  up  a  narrow  gorge  into 
Lololand,  the  border  being  but  some  fifteen  miles 
away.  This  is  almost  the  only  break  in  the  flanking 
hills  that  wall  in  the  Forbidden  Land.  Yiieh-hsi  itself 
lies  in  the  centre  of  a  rock-strewn  plain  broken  by  a 
few  rice-  and  maize-fields,  and  is  important  as  a  mili- 
tary post  guarding  the  trade  route  against  this  easy 
way  of  attack.  The  best  room  of  the  inn  smelt  to 
heaven,  but  on  investigation  I  found  an  open  loft 
which  proved  very  possible  after  ejecting  a  few  fowls. 
The  following  day  our  march  led  us  through  a 
narrow  valley  bare  of  people  and  cultivation.  Follow- 
ing this  was  a  welcome  change  to  steep  climbs  over 
grass-covered  slopes  broken  by  picturesque  ravines. 
I  tried  to  get  a  picture  of  a  coolie,  bearing  a  huge 
nine-foot-long  coffin  plank,  whom  we  overtook  on  the 
trail.  A  handful  of  cash  and  cigarettes  won  his  con- 
sent, but  in  spite  of  my  men's  efforts  to  calm  his  fears, 


THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  95 

the  poor  fellow  cringed  and  trembled  so,  as  I  got  my 
camera  into  position,  that  I  gave  it  up.  I  felt  as  I 
might  feel  if  I  kicked  a  dumb  animal. 

Our  night's  stop  was  at  Pao-an-ying,  —  like  so 
many  other  hamlets  of  this  region,  little  more  than 
a  camp-village,  and  showing  its  origin  in  the  ter- 
mination "  ying "  or  "jin,"  meaning  regiment.  My 
room  at  the  inn  looked  out  directly  on  the  street,  and 
there  was  neither  quiet  nor  privacy  to  be  had,  so  I 
went  out  for  a  walk,  escorted  by  a  soldier  and  a  coolie. 
Discovering  a  secluded  screened  place  in  a  graveyard, 
I  fell  asleep  on  the  top  of  a  tomb,  and  my  men  near 
by  did  the  same ;  but  presently  I  was  awakened  by 
Jack's  barking,  to  find  myself  the  centre  of  a  crowd 
of  some  fifty  men  silently  watching  me,  and  down 
the  hillside  I  saw  others  coming,  so  I  gave  it  up  and 
took  a  stroll  through  the  town,  inspecting  the  pro- 
vision shops. 

We  were  off  the  next  morning  in  the  dark.  At  first 
the  road  was  wild  and  picturesque.  The  track  was 
unusually  good,  and  steep,  well-constructed  zigzags 
carried  us  up  and  down  the  hills.  Later  the  valley 
opened,  and  we  ascended  gradually  over  beautiful 
slopes  gay  with  rhododendron  and  iris.  The  clouds 
above  the  mountains  were  very  fine,  but  presently 
rain  came  on,  continuing  off  and  on  all  day. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  we  came  in  sight  of  Haitang, 
a  walled  town  perched  picturesquely  on  the  side  of  a 


96  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

hill.  A  temple  outside  the  wall  looked  attractive,  and 
I  should  have  visited  it  had  it  not  been  for  the  rain 
which  now  set  in  in  good  earnest.  So,  instead,  I  in- 
spected the  inn,  which  seemed  unusually  interesting". 
There  was  the  ordinary  entrance  court  roofed  over, 
and  behind  that  an  inner  court  open  to  the  sky  and 
surrounded  by  galleried  buildings.  Off  from  this  led 
a  long,  high  passage  into  which  opened  a  number  of 
superior  rooms.  Mine  was  quite  elaborately  furnished 
with  carved  bedstead  and  chairs  and  tables,  and  best 
of  all,  it  had  a  door  opening  directly  on  to  the  city 
wall,  where  I  could  step  out  and  get  a  breath  of 
fresh  air  free  from  observation. 

Here  I  had  my  first  experience  of  the  "  squeeze." 
On  directing  the  interpreter  to  give  the  fu  t'ou  the 
coolies'  pork  money,  I  learned  that  on  the  previous 
occasion  the  man  had  kept  an  undue  proportion  of 
it.  Apparently  a  certain  squeeze  was  regarded  as 
legitimate,  but  he  had  transgressed  the  accepted 
bounds.  I  hardly  knew  how  to  meet  the  difficulty.  Of 
course  I  could  have  paid  the  coolies  directly,  but  it 
was  most  desirable  to  maintain  the  fu  t'ou's  author- 
ity over  them.  Finally,  in  true  Chinese  fashion,  the 
interpreter  worked  out  a  scheme  by  which  the  fu  t'ou's 
"face"  might  be  saved,  and  yet  the  coolies  not 
be  defrauded.  Going  out  into  the  court  where  the 
men  were  lounging,  he  called  loudly  to  the  fu  t'ou  to 
come  for  the  coolies'  money,  naming  the  sum  I  in- 


THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  97 

tended  to  give,  about  one  hundred  cash  to  a  man.  "In 
the  face  of  this  there  was  nothing  for  the  fu  t'ou  to  do 
but  give  to  each  his  rightful  share,  which  he  did  with 
a  very  sulky  air.  Afterwards  I  had  a  talk  with  the 
man,  telling  him  that  my  idea  of  a  good  fu  t'ou  was 
one  who  kept  the  men  up  to  their  work,  and  at  the 
same  time  did  not  bully  or  mulct  them  of  their  hard- 
earned  money.  Such  a  man  would  get  a  good  reward 
at  the  end.  My  reputation  for  lavishness  stood  me 
here  in  great  stead,  for  henceforth  there  was  no  diffi- 
culty on  this  score.  I  might  be  "  squeezed,"  but  at 
least  my  coolies  were  not.  The  fu  t'ou,  however,  tried 
to  get  even  with  the  man  who  told,  by  discharging 
him.  Fortunately  I  learned  of  this,  again  through 
the  interpreter,  and  put  a  stop  to  it.  The  idea  of  the 
squeeze  seems  to  be  ingrained  in  the  Chinese.  How 
difficult  it  is  to  eradicate  was  shown  by  the  delight  of 
a  missionary  at  Chung-king  over  the  low  price  for 
which  his  trusty  Christian  clerk  had  secured  a  boat 
for  me.  For  once  he  felt  sure  no  commission  could 
have  been  taken. 

During  all  this  part  of  my  trip  I  carried  no  coined 
silver,  only  rough  lumps  of  bullion  of  varying  size, 
converting  them  into  cash  as  I  needed.  The  rate  of 
exchange  varied  from  place  to  place,  and  I  was  some- 
times warned  to  put  off  visiting  the  money-changers 
until  the  next  town.  Of  course  the  visitor  stands  to 
lose  anyway,  and  I  am  sure  that  in  the  course  of  a 


98  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

long  journey  through  China  you  would  see  your 
money  vanish  in  the  mere  process  of  change,  quite 
aside  from  the  money  you  spent. 

Rain  fell  all  the  next  day,  but  it  could  not  take  from 
the  charm  of  the  road,  which  led  much  of  the  time 
along  the  bottom  of  a  deep,  narrow  gorge,  the  steep 
sides  clothed  to  the  very  top  with  tropical  green 
flecked  with  splendid  splashes  of  pink  and  white 
azaleas,  while  by  the  side  of  the  path  were  masses  of 
blue  iris,  and  of  small  yellow  and  red  flowers.  We 
reached  our  night's  resting-place,  P'ing-i-p'u,  early 
in  the  afternoon,  and  in  spite  of  the  rain  I  went  for  a 
walk.  By  dint  of  peremptory  commands,  reenforced 
by  the  rain,  I  shook  off  my  military  escort,  who  for 
the  last  few  marches  had  dogged  my  steps  at  every 
turn,  moving  when  I  moved,  stopping  when  I  stopped. 
To  be  sure,  they  had  been  very  thoughtful  of  my 
comfort,  helping  me  in  and  out  of  my  chair,  gather- 
ing the  new  flowers  which  appeared  each  day,  keep- 
ing up  a  brazier  fire  in  my  room  when  it  was  damp, 
but  I  was  tired  of  being  treated  as  either  a  suspect  or 
a  royal  personage,  and  as  we  were  now  well  beyond 
the  limit  of  Lolo  raids  I  demanded  the  freedom  of 
being  alone.  I  found  quiet  in  an  overgrown  grave- 
yard, with  charming  views  down  stream  and  up  the 
near  hillsides  cultivated  in  tiny  scallops  to  the  very 
top,  although  the  slopes  were  so  steep  that  each  plot 
was  shored  up  with  a  strong  stone  wall  to  keep  the 


THE  CHIEN-CH'ANG  99 

crop  of  maize  and  buckwheat  from  slipping  down 
into  the  river. 

As  we  passed  out  of  the  village  the  next  morning 
at  six  o'clock  we  heard  the  hum  of  the  boys  in  the 
government  school  already  at  work.  Apparently 
Young  China  was  wasting  no  time.  For  perhaps 
twenty  li  we  followed  down  a  fine  stream,  the  way 
rather  dangerous  from  the  rocks  which  now  and  then 
detached  themselves  from  the  steep  overhanging  hill- 
sides. After  a  time  an  ascent  of  one  thousand  feet 
brought  us  in  sight  of  the  Ta  Tu,  which  we  reached 
some  time  after  noon  by  a  gradual  descent  of  two 
thousand  feet,  through  a  narrow  valley  to  Ta-shu- 
p'u.  Fine  clumps  of  bamboo  and  groups  of  palm  now 
cheered  our  sight,  and  fruit  of  several  sorts —  cherries, 
pears,  loquats  —  was  becoming  abundant.  It  was  very 
refreshing,  although  scarcely  of  a  fine  quality,  and 
usually  gathered  before  it  was  ripe.  The  place  looked 
quiet  and  attractive,  but  half  a  century  ago  the  last 
scenes  of  the  Taiping  rebellion  were  enacted  here, 
when  the  remnants  of  Shih  Ta-k'ai's  force  were  sur- 
rounded and  slaughtered. 

Later  in  the  day  I  went  for  a  stroll  to  inspect  the 
shops,  accompanied  by  my  interpreter,  and  it  was  on 
this  occasion  that  I  met  with  the  only  instance  of  un- 
friendliness (that  I  recognized)  in  all  my  journeying 
in  West  China.  At  one  shop  I  noticed  an  interesting 
bronze  dragon.  The  interpreter,  who  had  a  rather 


ioo  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

objectionable  habit  of  fingering  the  wares,  began  ex- 
amining it.  Thereupon  the  merchant  came  forward 
and  snatched  it  from  his  hands,  and  when  we  passed 
that  way  again  on  our  return,  he  came  out  before  his 
shop  and  waved  us  off  vigorously  with  his  flapping 
sleeves.  The  interpreter  said  that  the  man  disliked 
foreigners,  but  admitted  that  he  did  not  wish  to  have 
his  things  handled. 


CHAPTER  V 

ON   THE  MANDARIN   ROAD 

once  the  sun  was  shining  gloriously  as  we 
descended  the  one  long  street  of  Ta-Shu-p'u, 
lined  with  food-shops,  to  the  ferry  across  the  Ta  Tu 
Ho,  here  about  six  hundred  feet  wide.  Unlike  the 
crossing  of  the  Yangtse  at  Lung-kai,  where  we  were 
the  only  ones  to  be  ferried  over,  we  found  ourselves 
here  in  a  crowd  of  coolies  and  ponies  impatiently 
waiting  their  turn,  for  we  were  now  on  a  main  trav- 
elled road.  The  two  great  flat-bottomed  boats  were 
loaded  to  the  brim,  and  the  crossing  was  safely  ac- 
complished to  the  tune  of  much  shouting  and  kick- 
ing (by  the  ponies).  Sitting  at  ease  in  my  chair  I  en- 
joyed the  grand  views  up  and  down  the  river,  which 
here  swings  out  from  the  cliffs  in  a  splendid  curve. 
Above  and  below  the  ferry  the  Ta  Tu  runs  through  a 
wild,  little-known  region.  Few  trails  cross  the  pre- 
cipitous mountains  that  hem  in  its  turbulent  waters, 
which  are  navigable  for  short  distances  only  by  tim- 
ber rafts,  and  even  on  these  the  dangers  of  the  journey 
are  so  great  that  the  owners  of  the  timber  are  expected 
to  bind  themselves  to  provide  coffins  in  case  of  a  fatal 
accident. 


102  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

On  the  farther  side  we  landed  on  a  stretch  of  shingle, 
across  which  we  picked  our  way  for  a  mile  to  the  pros- 
perous trading  centre  of  Fulin,  lying  on  the  right  bank 
of  the  Liu  Sha,  or  "  River  of  Flowing  Sand,"  a  small 
stream  flowing  into  the  Ta  Tu  from  the  north.  Our 
path  led  outside  the  town  on  the  top  of  a  narrow  earth 
embankment,  which  bordered  an  irrigating  ditch  car- 
ried along  the  side  of  the  hill.  I  should  gladly  have 
got  off,  but  there  was  no  chance  to  dismount  save 
into  the  water  on  the  one  hand  or  into  the  valley 
thirty  feet  down  on  the  other.  But  I  think  you  can 
trust  the  Yunnan  pony  anywhere  he  is  willing  to  go, 
and  mine  did  not  hesitate.  In  fact,  he  never  balked 
at  anything  asked  of  him  save  once  at  a  shaky 
"parao,"  or  footway,  constructed  along  the  face  of 
the  cliff  on  timbers  thrust  into  holes  bored  in  the  solid 
rock,  and  another  time  when  he  refused  a  jump  from 
a  boggy  rice-field  to  the  top  of  a  crumbling  wall  hardly 
a  foot  wide  with  another  bog  on  the  other  side. 

Fulin  was  crowded  with  coming  and  going  coolies 
and  I  could  hardly  force  my  way  through,  but  one 
gets  used  to  staring  crowds,  and  I  had  long  since 
abandoned  the  practice  of  taking  refuge  in  my  chair 
on  entering  a  town,  save  at  the  largest  ones.  Then  it 
was  certainly  pleasanter  and  perhaps  safer  to  make 
my  way  through  the  throng  enthroned  high  on  the 
shoulders  of  my  coolies,  but  in  the  villages  I  walked 
or  rode  my  pony  as  chance  served.  Even  in  the 


ON  THE  MANDARIN   ROAD  103 

smallest  places  our  entrance  was  the  signal  for  an 
uproar.  The  scores  of  dogs  —  big,  gaunt  pariahs  — 
that  infested  every  village,  greeted  us  as  we  passed 
through  the  gate  with  a  chorus  of  barks,  sending  the 
word  down  the  line.  To  his  credit  be  it  said,  Jack 
paid  little  attention  to  them,  tittupping  along,  head 
up,  tail  up,  only  when  they  came  too  close  turning 
on  them  with  a  flash  of  white  teeth  that  sent  the 
cowardly  brutes  flying  and  brought  cries  of  delight 
from  the  village  folk  who  crowded  nearer  to  inspect 
the  strange  dog,  so  small,  so  brave,  and  so  friendly. 
Seen  from  within,  Fulin  was  not  attractive  and  I 
escaped  outside  leaving  my  men  to  get  their  break- 
fast, which  they  generally  had  at  about  nine  o'clock, 
for  the  Szechuan  order  of  day  is  not  like  that  of 
Yunnan.  We  were  on  the  road  often  before  six 
o'clock,  and  my  cook  always  succeeded  in  getting 
me  some  tea  before  starting,  but  the  coolies  fasted 
until  eight  or  after,  when  they  stopped  for  a  hearty 
breakfast.  At  noon  there  was  usually  a  second  long 
halt,  this  time  for  me  and  the  pony,  but  the  coolies 
took  nothing  more  save  the  hourly  cups  of  tea  until 
we  reached  our  night's  stopping-place  about  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon.  The  start  at  dawn  was  de- 
lightful ;  less  so  getting  into  the  town  with  half  an 
afternoon  before  me,  and  I  made  it  the  rule  to  stop  a 
mile  or  so  outside  the  town  for  a  nap  in  peace  and 
quiet,  but  the  quiet  was  hard  to  find.  Generally  there 


io4  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

was  a  retired  nook  not  too  far  from  the  trail,  most 
times  a  graveyard,  but  then  came  the  difficulty  of 
getting  there  unobserved,  for  if  seen  we  were  sure  to 
be  tracked.  Oh,  the  races  I  have  run,  playing  hide- 
and-seek  with  the  crowd,  stealing  under  a  village 
wall  like  a  thief,  hiding  behind  a  little  shrine,  and 
the  end  was  always  the  same,  —  to  be  wakened  from 
my  first  nap  by  Jack  barking  at  a  large  blue  spot  a 
little  distance  off,  which  slowly  resolved  itself  into  a 
stolid  line  of  villagers. 

For  a  few  miles  we  followed  up  the  left  bank  of  the 
Liu  Sha,  whose  waters  were  turbid  with  the  red  soil 
of  Szechuan.  The  fertile  bottom  lands  were  carefully 
cultivated  with  rice,  and  on  the  higher  ground  maize 
and  sugar-cane  were  growing.  Dotted  about  the 
fields  were  clumps  of  mulberry  and  orange  trees,  and 
the  flanks  of  the  enclosing  mountains  were  covered 
with  a  sparse  growth  of  oak  and  pine. 

After  a  time  we  climbed  by  a  long,  steep  rock  stair- 
case to  another  valley  some  fifteen  hundred  feet 
above  the  level  of  Fulin  and  into  cooler  weather  and 
clearer  air.  Just  before  entering  Han  Yuan  Kai, 
where  we  spent  the  night,  we  passed  under  a  very 
beautiful  "  pailou,"  or  memorial  arch,  built  of  stone 
and  elaborately  carved  with  spirited  figures  repre- 
senting historic  scenes.  The  workmanship  and  va- 
riety of  these  arches  are  very  remarkable.  They 
abound  all  over  Szechuan,  especially  in  the  Chengtu 


ON  THE  MANDARIN  ROAD          105 

plain,  and  usually  commemorate  the  good  deeds  of 
an  official  (his  best  act,  perhaps,  was  setting  up  this 
memorial  to  himself),  or  the  virtues  of  some  woman 
whose  merit  lay  almost  invariably  in  many  years,  or 
many  children,  or  above  all  in  remaining  a  widow. 
I  have  heard  of  a  pailou  in  Kwangtung  province  in 
honour  of  a  woman  marked  out  among  women  for 
her  years,  her  goodness,  and  above  all  for  her  many 
descendants,  who  numbered  six  sons,  forty  grand- 
sons, one  hundred  and  twenty-one  great-grandsons 
and  two  great-great-grandsons. 

Han  Yuan  Kai  is  on  the  mandarin  road  that  con- 
nects Chengtu  and  Ya-chou  with  the  frontier.  Here 
we  entered  a  new  magistracy,  and  it  was  necessary 
to  send  to  Ch'ing  Ch'i,  the  district  headquarters,  for  a 
fresh  relay  of  soldiers.  One  of  those  who  had  come 
with  me  from  Ta-shu-p'u  started  at  once  on  our  ar- 
rival at  Han  Yuan  Kai  about  the  middle  of  the  after- 
noon, and  made  the  journey,  twenty-five  li  each  way, 
to  Ch'ing  Ch'i-hsien  and  back  before  night,  bringing 
with  him  the  two  men  who  were  to  go  on  with  me. 
Truly  the  West  China  man  is  no  weakling. 

During  the  next  day  we  were  following  the  great 
tea-road,  the  road  by  which  most  of  the  twelve  mil- 
lion pounds  of  brick  tea  consumed  by  the  guzzling 
Tibetans  is  carried  to  the  frontier  market  at  Tachien- 
lu.  At  all  hours  of  the  day  straggling  lines  of  men  or 
ponies  or  mules  were  in  sight,  toiling  along  under 


106  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

their  precious  burdens.  Between  Ya-chou,  the  start- 
ing-point of  this  traffic,  and  Tachienlu  there  are  two 
high  passes  to  cross,  seven  thousand  feet  above  the 
level  where  the  journey  begins,  and  the  whole  length 
of  the  road  is  a  wearisome  succession  of  ups  and 
downs.  And  the  loads  carried  are  extraordinary. 
Baron  von  Richthofen  says,  "There  is  probably  no 
road  in  the  world  where  such  heavy  loads  are  carried 
by  man  across  high  mountains."  The  oblong  pack- 
age, called  "pao,"  in  which  the  tea  is  made  up, 
weighs  perhaps  eighteen  pounds,  and,  according  to 
the  German  traveller,  ten  or  eleven  form  an  average 
load.  But  Baber  declares  that  he  had  often  seen  a 
coolie  carrying  eighteen  pao,  and  on  one  occasion  a 
man  with  a  load  of  twenty-two,  certainly  equivalent 
to  four  hundred  pounds.  I  saw  nothing  like  that,  but 
I  passed  many  a  poor  wretch  sweating  under  a  bur- 
den of  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  or  two  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds.  Day  after  day  they  creep  along, 
rarely  covering  more  than  six  or  seven  miles  a  day. 
Every  four  hundred  yards  they  rest,  but  the  loads  are 
taken  off  only  at  noon  and  night.  At  other  times  they 
relieve  themselves  for  a  moment  from  the  intolerable 
strain  by  placing  an  iron-shod  crutch  under  the  load. 
On  the  march  they  carry  this  in  the  hand,  tapping 
the  ground  as  they  go,  and  all  along  the  road  the 
granite  pavement  is  worn  into  holes  from  the  taps  of 
centuries.  The  load,  which  is  fastened  to  a  framework 


ON  THE  MANDARIN  ROAD          107 

attached  to  the  carrier's  back,  towers  high  over  his 
head,  and  is  usually  surmounted  by  his  wide-brimmed 
hat  fastened  at  such  an  angle  as  to  give  him  pro- 
tection against  rain  and  sun.  Even  Chinese  ingen- 
uity has  failed  to  devise  a  way  by  which  he  can  wear 
it  properly  on  his  head.  Some  of  them  fanned  them- 
selves vigorously  as  they  walked,  with  respectable 
black,  old-lady  fans,  and  the  contrast  with  their  hard, 
begrimed  faces  and  sturdy  frames  was  very  comical. 
The  men  looked  worn  and  exhausted,  and  their  work 
is  killing,  although  I  believe  they  outlast  the  chair- 
bearers;  but  they  were  patient  and  cheerful  like  the 
rest,  ready  to  laugh  and  share  their  cold  lunch  of 
corn-cake  with  the  little  foreign  dog  who  begged  so 
prettily. 

I  wondered  how  many  of  them  were  opium  smok- 
ers. To  the  untrained  eye  the  signs  were  not  very 
plain.  Among  my  coolies  was  one  whom  I  dubbed 
"  Mercury,"  so  untiring  and  fleet  of  foot  was  he,  car- 
rying his  load  of  eighty  pounds  or  so  with  apparent 
ease,  and  showing  much  pride  in  keeping  near  my 
chair,  while  usually  the  carrier  coolies  lagged  far  be- 
hind. I  was  told  he  was  the  worst  smoker  of  the  whole 
lot.  In  my  caravan  of  seventeen  men,  seven,  includ- 
ing the  fu  t'ou,  used  opium.  As  a  rule  they  limited 
themselves  to  one  pipe  at  night,  while  five  years  ago 
travellers  complained  that  a  long  halt  at  noon  was  de- 
manded by  the  smokers.  The  fu  t'ou  was  making  a 


io8  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

valiant  effort,  with  the  aid  of  anti-opium  pills,  to  break 
off  the  habit;  it  was  getting  too  expensive,  he  said, 
especially  for  a  married  man.  In  a  number  of  towns 
places  were  pointed  out  where  these  pills  were  sold 
by  the  Government.  Those  who  know,  say  they  are 
often  as  pernicious  as  the  drug  itself. 

The  majority  of  my  men,  eleven  to  be  precise, 
were  married,  and  eight  had  children.  I  was  interested 
to  note  the  discreet  and  indirect  way  in  which  this  in- 
formation was  procured  for  me  by  the  interpreter. 
Such  matters  are  not  mentioned  in  public  in  China, 
any  more  than  in  India. 

My  own  chair-men,  so  it  happened,  were  all  gay 
young  bachelors,  ready  to  squander  their  earnings  on 
anything  that  took  their  fancy,  —  beads  or  tobacco, 
hats  or  cakes,  especially  cakes.  There  was  a  particu- 
lar sort,  very  sweet  with  pink  frosting,  that  was  a  great 
delicacy,  costing  two  cents  Mexican  apiece.  I  had  to 
speak  pretty  emphatically  to  one  of  the  men  who  was 
trying  to  win  Jack's  favour  by  feeding  him  with  the 
costly  cookies.  "  But  the  little  dog  likes  them,"  he 
said. 

The  Chinese  generally,  unlike  the  Hindu,  is  very 
ready  to  spend  on  his  food  if  he  has  the  money.  He 
will  live  on  less  than  nothing  if  put  to  it,  but  given 
the  chance  he  does  not  stint  himself.  At  short  in- 
tervals on  the  road  were  tea-houses  and  restaurants 
of  the  simpler  sort  especially  planned  to  cater  to  the 


ON  THE  MANDARIN   ROAD          109 

coolie  class,  but  they  were  often  not  unattractive. 
Sometimes  they  were  substantial  buildings  open  to 
the  street,  and  set  out  with  tables  on  which  were 
ranged  dishes  of  vegetables  and  curries  and  cakes, 
while  in  the  background  was  a  big  cauldron  of  rice 
cooking  over  the  fire.  Occasionally  the  tea-house 
was  nothing  more  than  a  section  of  the  highway 
roofed  over  with  mats  or  leafy  boughs.  On  a  handy 
bench  was  placed  a  basin  of  steaming  water  for  the 
visitor  to  bathe  hands  and  face  before  drawing  up  to 
the  table.  It  gave  me  a  pleasant  surprise  to  see  the 
Chinese  making  of  the  daily  repast  a  jolly  social  func- 
tion, instead  of  each  squatting  on  the  ground  in  a 
corner,  devouring  his  solitary  bowl  of  rice  as  is  the 
fashion  of  most  Eastern  peoples. 

I  found  much  interest  in  noting  the  food  of  my 
men,  the  variety  and  cost  of  it,  and  I  whiled  away 
many  an  hour  of  waiting,  in  questioning  innkeepers 
and  provision  dealers.  A  good  bowl  of  rice,  called 
"  cat's  head  "  and  costing  twenty  cash,  or  one  cent 
gold,  was  usually  thefitice  de  resistance.  This  in  hand, 
a  man  fished  out  with  his  chopsticks  tidbits  from  vari- 
ous dishes  set  out  on  the  table,  — beans,  cabbage, 
lettuce,  peppers,  etc.,  all  cooked.  Good  hot  boiled  po- 
tatoes in  their  jackets  were  sometimes  to  be  had  at 
four  cash  each,  or  a  bowl  of  stewed  turnips  at  the 
same  price.  Beans  in  some  shape  were  an  important 
part  of  every  menu.  You  could  get  a  basin  of  fresh 


no  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

beans  for  ten  cash,  dried  bean-cake  for  five,  beans 
cooked  and  strained  to  a  stiff  batter  for  making  soup 
for  seven  cash  the  ounce,  while  a  large  square  of 
white  bean-cake  was  sold  for  one  copper  cent.  A 
saucer  of  spun  rice  or  millet,  looking  much  like  ver- 
micelli, with  a  seasoning  of  vinegar,  cost  five  cash. 
Bowls  of  powdered  grain  mixed  with  sugar  were  much 
in  demand.  So,  too,  for  those  who  could  afford  them, 
large  round  cakes  at  thirty  cash  for  two.  Ground 
pepper  (the  Chinese  are  very  fond  of  pepper  in  any 
form)  was  sold  at  one  cash  the  tiny  package,  and 
sugar  for  three  cash  the  square  inch.  Almost  every 
coolie  had  tucked  in  about  his  load  a  large  flat  cake 
of  coarse  corn-meal  or  maize  mixed  with  water,  which 
he  munched  as  he  went  along.  In  Tachienlu,  my  sup- 
ply of  biscuits  having  given  out,  I  had  my  cook  buy 
some  of  these ;  split  open  and  toasted,  they  were  not 
at  all  bad.  Tea,  of  course,  was  to  be  had  everywhere; 
a  pinch  of  tea-leaves  in  a  covered  cup  and  unstinted 
boiling  water  cost  from  five  to  twenty  cash  a  cup,  and 
most  refreshing  I  found  it.  On  the  whole,  the  food 
looked  attractive,  and  the  fact  that  whether  liquid 
or  solid  it  was  almost  invariably  boiled  must  have 
much  to  do  with  saving  the  people  from  the  legiti- 
mate consequences  of  their  sins  against  sanitary  laws. 
The  Chinese  have  no  principles  against  eating  be- 
tween meals  if  they  can  find  anything  to  eat,  and 
there  was  temptation  all  along  the  road.  Beside  a 


ON  THE  MANDARIN  ROAD          in 

wayside  well,  under  a  spreading  tree,  would  be  placed 
a  small  table  tended  perhaps  only  by  a  tiny  maiden, 
and  set  out  with  pieces  of  sugar-cane  or  twigs  of  lo- 
quats  or  carefully  counted  clusters  of  peanuts  or  seeds, 
five  pieces  for  a  cash, 

Our  second  night  from  the  ferry  was  spent  at  Ni 
Tou,  a  rather  important  frontier  village,  and  attrac- 
tive with  picturesque  red  temples  and  pailous.  A  good 
sleep  in  an  unusually  comfortable  inn  prepared  us  for 
the  stiff  climb  to  come.  The  morning  broke  grey  and 
the  clouds  rested  low  on  the  mountains,  but  at  least 
we  were  spared  a  start  in  the  rain.  The  road  was  so 
steep  and  rough  that  I  preferred  to  walk,  and  soon 
getting  ahead  of  my  men  I  did  not  see  them  again 
until  midday,  and  I  had  a  good  morning  all  to  myself 
among  the  hills.  Occasionally  I  passed  through  a 
little  hamlet,  people  and  dogs  all  turning  out  to  greet 
my  dog  and  me.  Once  a  whole  village  emptied  it- 
self into  the  fields  to  show  me  the  way  up  the  hillside. 
My  cold  lunch  I  ate  at  the  head  of  a  wild  gorge  by 
a  solitary  shrine  half  buried  in  clumps  of  bushes,  and 
beautiful  with  masses  of  iris.  The  last  part  of  the  climb 
to  Fei  Yueh  Ling,  or  "  Fly  Beyond  Pass,"  led  through 
an  uninhabited  glen  down  which  rushed  a  fine  stream 
turning  the  horizontally  placed  wheels  of  a  ruined 
mill.  Hurrying  up  the  rocky  zigzag  I  stood  alone  at 
the  top  of  the  pass,  nine  thousand  feet  above  the  sea. 
Before  me  I  knew  towered  range  upon  range,  peak 


ii2  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

above  peak,  one  of  the  finest  views  the  earth  affords, 
but  alas,  everything-  was  blotted  out  by  thick  white 
clouds,  and  I  could  scarcely  see  ten  feet  away. 

It  was  maddening  to  think  of  the  wonders  that 
lay  behind  that  impenetrable  wall,  but  there  was 
nothing  to  do  but  to  descend  by  a  trail  as  steep  and 
slippery  as  the  one  by  which  I  had  just  climbed,  for 
the  cold,  drenching  mist  showed  no  signs  of  lifting. 
It  was  on  this  slope  that  Rockhill,  the  American  ex- 
plorer, met  a  pilgrim  on  his  way  to  Lhasa.  Starting 
in  the  Chusan  archipelago  near  Ning-po,  he  had  al- 
ready spent  seven  years  on  the  way,  and  it  would  be 
two  more  before  he  could  attain  his  goal,  which  was 
not  to  be  wondered  at,  as  with  every  two  steps  he 
prostrated  himself  full  length  on  the  ground  before 
the  little  altar  he  carried  with  him.  With  this  primi- 
tive mountain  world  his  act  was  in  weird  harmony, 
but  there  was  an  incongruity  almost  stunning  in  the 
sight  of  a  Hindu  carrying  out  a  similar  vow  in  one 
of  the  crowded  business  streets  of  Europeanized  Cal- 
cutta. I  nearly  stepped  on  him  as  I  came  out  one 
day  from  the  Hong  Kong  and  Shanghai  Bank. 

Just  before  reaching  Hua-lin-ping,  or  "Phoenix" 
Flat,  where  we  were  to  spend  the  night,  I  espied  across 
the  narrow  valley  to  our  right  a  picturesque  temple 
perched  at  the  top  of  a  high  wooded  cliff.  As  it  was 
still  early  in  the  afternoon,  I  turned  off  from  the  trail, 
and,  accompanied  by  the  interpreter,  scrambled  down 


ON  THE  MANDARIN  ROAD          113 

the  slope,  gay  with  pink  azaleas,  to  a  charming 
wooden  bridge  spanning  the  torrent.  After  a  sharp 
pull  through  a  fine  forest,  we  came  out  in  front  of  the 
temple,  which  was  dedicated  to  Kuan  Yin :  by  the 
way,  it  is  rather  significant  that  China's  favourite 
deity  is  the  Goddess  of  Mercy.  The  place  seemed 
deserted,  and  we  wandered  about  at  will.  Apparently 
extensive  repairs  were  going  on,  and  roofs  and  gods 
alike  were  being  refurbished.  After  a  time  an  old 
priest  turned  up,  who  took  us  through  the  timber- 
built  monastery  behind  the  temple.  Here,  he  told  us, 
well-to-do  people  of  the  neighbourhood  often  spent  a 
few  weeks  in  summer,  to  escape  the  damp  heat  of  the 
valley.  The  practical  Chinese  do  not  hesitate  to  put 
their  sacred  places  to  use,  and  they  serve  in  turn  for 
schools,  political  gatherings,  summer  resorts. 

I  was  half  a  mind  to  cry  a  halt,  the  place  looked 
so  attractive,  and  all  the  more  when  on  stepping  out 
of  a  door  there  opened  before  me  a  wonderful  vision 
of  heaven-kissing  mountains.  While  we  were  inside 
the  clouds  had  lifted,  revealing  the  whole  line  of  the 
great  peaks  that  stand  as  sentinels  at  the  eastern  end 
of  the  vast  Tibetan  plateau.  Westward  from  that 
snow-topped  line  there  is  no  low  land  until  you  reach 
the  plains  of  India.  For  a  few  minutes  we  stood  spell- 
bound, and  then  the  clouds  shut  down  again,  leaving 
only  a  glorious  memory  to  cheer  the  descent  through 
a  grey,  dripping  world. 


ii4  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

A  generation  ago  Hua-lin-ping  was  an  important 
frontier  post,  but  to-day  its  broad,  barrack-lined  street 
is  deserted  and  grass-grown,  for  the  vanguard  of 
effective  Chinese  occupation  is  steadily  pushing  west- 
ward into  the  tribes  country.  We  started  the  next 
morning  under  clouds  of  more  than  one  sort ;  rain 
was  falling,  the  ma-fu,  whom  I  had  been  dosing  for 
a  day  or  two,  had  given  out,  and  had  to  be  left  be- 
hind as  well  as  one  of  the  coolies,  and  the  fu  t'ou 
was  cross  at  having  to  shoulder  the  latter' s  load. 
Early  on  this  day  we  again  came  to  the  Ta  Tu,  hav- 
ing descended  five  thousand  feet  from  the  top  of  the 
pass ;  and  for  the  rest  of  this  stage  and  all  the  next 
one  we  followed  up  the  wild  valley  of  this  beautiful 
river,  which  may  be  said  to  form  the  real  geograph- 
ical and  ethnographical  boundary  between  China 
and  Tibet.  Wherever  the  valley  opened  out  a  little, 
there  was  the  invariable  garden-like  cultivation  of  the 
Chinese ;  fruit  and  nut  trees  abounded,  mulberry, 
peach,  apricot,  and  walnut,  and  the  fields  showed 
good  crops  of  maize,  beans,  and  sugar-cane.  But  up 
from  the  narrow  fertile  strip  of  river  bank  towered  on 
either  hand  barren  mountains,  their  precipitous  gran- 
ite sides  gashed  here  and  there  by  deep  gorges  in 
and  out  of  which  the  trail  wound  with  sharp  turns 
and  steep  descents.  The  grey,  forbidding  mountains, 
showing  hardly  a  foothold  for  man  or  beast,  tree  or 
house,  matched  the  grey,  swirling  river,  here  unnav- 


ON  THE  MANDARIN   ROAD  115 

igable  even  for  rafts.  Thrust  back  by  the  land,  offered 
only  a  watery  grave  by  the  river,  it  seemed  no 
country  for  man  to  seek  a  home,  and  yet  the  scattered 
Chinese  hamlets  were  gay  and  full  of  life,  and  the 
tea-houses  at  every  turn  were  doing  a  good  business. 

At  Leng  Chi,  where  we  stopped  for  breakfast,  I  fled 
from  the  noisy  restaurant  to  a  small  temple  across 
the  road,  its  outer  court  filled  full  of  coffins,  whether 
occupied  or  not,  I  could  not  say.  A  nice  old  priest 
promptly  found  me  out,  and  taking  me  into  an  inner 
room  made  me  comfortable  with  cups  of  tea.  The 
buzz  of  voices  told  that  a  school  was  in  session  near 
by,  and  at  the  request  of  the  teacher,  a  good-looking 
young  man,  I  paid  it  a  visit.  Some  twenty  boys  were 
hard  at  work  on  the  classics  and  mathematics,  un- 
disturbed by  the  weird-looking  gods  around  them. 
They  seemed  wide  awake,  and  showed  real  disap- 
pointment that  I  could  not  stop  to  see  a  display  of 
their  skill  in  gymnastics.  Every  good-sized  village 
seems  to  boast  a  school  of  sorts,  and  not  a  few  do 
something  for  the  girls. 

The  rain  was  falling  as  we  approached  Lu  Ting 
Ch'iao,  and  that  meant  a  long  evening  cooped  up  in 
a  noisy,  ill-smelling  inn,  so  in  desperation  I  took  re- 
fuge under  a  large  tree  just  outside  the  town  where 
bushes  screened  me  from  the  passers  on  the  road.  My 
men  had  long  since  made  up  their  minds  that  I  was 
rather  mad,  so  they  left  me  in  peace,  only  posting  one 


n6  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

of  the  soldiers  in  a  temple  near  by  to  keep  watch  and 
ward ;  but  there  was  no  need,  for  most  of  the  people 
hereabouts  are  Tibetan,  and  they  have  little  of  the 
pertinacious  curiosity  of  the  Chinese,  whether  because 
of  better  manners  or  because  less  alert  I  do  not  know. 
And  it  was  well  I  cut  short  my  stay  in  the  inn,  for  it 
was  about  the  worst  I  had  come  across,  as  I  took 
pains  to  inform  the  landlord  the  next  morning.  But 
there  was  no  choice.  Lu  Ting  Ch'iao,  or  the  "  Town 
of  the  Iron  Bridge,"  derives  its  importance  as  well  as 
its  name  from  its  location,  and  it  was  crowded  to  over- 
flowing with  east-  and  west-bound  travellers,  officials, 
merchants,  soldiers,  coolies,  for  all  traffic  must  cross 
the  Ta  Tu  here,  the  one  point  spanned  by  a  bridge. 
Indeed,  according  to  Mr.  Archibald  Little,  this  is  the 
only  bridge  across  any  one  of  the  many  large  rivers 
that  unite  to  form  the  Great  River.  It  is  of  the  suspen- 
sion sort,  built  in  1701,  in  the  reign  of  that  energetic 
ruler,  Kang  Hi,  and  is  three  hundred  and  eleven  feet 
long.  The  nine  cables  of  charcoal-smelted  iron  that 
compose  it  are  anchored  at  the  ends  in  the  usual  Chi- 
nese fashion.  On  these  are  laid  loose  planks  to  serve 
as  a  footway,  while  the  only  guard  is  a  shaky  chain 
on  either  hand.  When  the  wind  swoops  down  the 
gorge,  as  it  does  most  afternoons,  the  whole  structure 
swings  uncomfortably,  and  I  wondered  at  the  non- 
chalance with  which  heavily  laden  coolies  and  ponies 
crossed.  But  such  as  it  is,  this  is  the  one  connecting 


ON  THE  MANDARIN  ROAD          117 

link  between  China  and  Tibet,  for  ferrying  across  the 
upper  reaches  of  the  Ta  Tu  is  impracticable  most  of 
the  year. 

After  passing  the  bridge  we  kept  up  a  narrow 
trail  that  clung  to  the  face  of  the  cliff,  often  cut  out  of 
the  granite  rock.  There  were  no  villages,  but  we 
passed  through  one  or  two  hamlets  set  in  a  small  al- 
luvial fan  such  as  is  often  seen  in  Western  Tibet,  only 
there  the  fan  ended  with  a  steep  precipice  two  or  three 
hundred  feet  above  the  river,  while  here  it  sloped 
gently  down  to  the  water's  edge. 

Occasionally  we  saw  across  the  Ta  Tu  on  the  left 
bank  a  village  unmistakably  Tibetan  :  no  trees ;  grey, 
flat-roofed,  fortress-like  houses,  often  reached  only  by 
a  ladder ;  with  few  signs  of  life  to  be  seen  even  with 
a  glass,  there  was  a  forbidding  aspect  to  these  places 
in  marked  contrast  to  the  bustle  of  a  Chinese  village. 

We  were  now  skirting  the  lower  slopes  of  the  Ta 
Shueh  Shan,  or  "Great  Snow  Mountains,"  the  out- 
posts of  the  Tibetan  plateau,  but  we  were  too  hemmed 
in  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  higher  ranges,  save 
once,  when  a  break  in  the  mountain  wall  afforded  a 
brief,  magnificent  view  of  the  snowy  peaks  towering 
more  than  fifteen  thousand  feet  above  our  heads. 
Then  another  turn  in  the  road  shut  us  in  again  be- 
tween grey  cliff  and  grey  river  and  grey  sky.  Toward 
the  end  of  the  day  a  sharp  bend  to  the  left  took  us 
away  from  the  Ta  Tu  into  the  wild  gorge  through 


n8  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

which  flows  the  Tarchendo,  and  with  a  rough  scramble 
we  dropped  down  into  the  pretty  little  village  of  Wa 
Ssu  Kou,  the  "  Ravine  of  the  Tile  Roof  Monastery." 
At  the  extreme  western  end  of  the  one  long  street  we 
found  comfortable  quarters  in  a  new,  clean  inn.  Like 
so  many  of  these  villages  of  wood  with  shingled 
roofs,  Wa  Ssu  Kou  seems  to  burn  down  once  in  so 
often,  which  has  at  least  the  advantage  that  there  is 
less  chance  for  dirt  to  accumulate. 

Strolling  out  from  the  inn  after  a  wash,  I  found 
myself  in  the  fine  gardens  that  border  the  river, 
separated  from  the  water,  here  level  with  the  bank, 
only  by  a  narrow  strip  of  shingle.  Men  and  women 
were  hard  at  work  even  after  nightfall.  Each  plant 
is  brought  up  by  hand,  as  it  were,  and  there  is  no 
waste  of  fertilizer ;  by  spoonfuls  the  precious  stuff 
is  applied  to  each  root  instead  of  being  scattered 
over  the  ground.  Just  across  the  river  towered  a 
precipitous  cliff  two  thousand  feet  high,  quite  over- 
shadowing the  village,  which  looked  very  small  and 
helpless  by  contrast.  Up  the  face  of  the  cliff  zig- 
zagged a  steep  trail,  finally  disappearing  over  the  top, 
and  I  looked  longingly  after  it,  for  on  this  side  the 
river  direct  Chinese  government  ends.  The  other 
bank  is  the  country  of  the  tribesmen,  people  of  Mantzu 
stock  living  under  the  rule  of  their  tribal  chiefs. 
Northwards  from  Wa  Ssu  Kou  the  Ta  Tu  changes 
its  name  to  Chin  Ch'uan,  or  "  Golden  Stream,"  and 


ON  THE  MANDARIN  ROAD  119 

the  whole  region  is  known  as  the  Chin  Ch'uan 
country,  and  is  famous  in  Chinese  history  as  the 
scene  of  one  of  the  most  hardly  fought  campaigns 
against  the  tribes. 

On  my  return  to  Wa  Ssu  Kou  a  week  later  a  free 
half-day  gave  me  a  chance  for  a  little  run  over  the 
border.  Guided  by  a  respectable  villager  I  crossed 
the  rickety  bridge  over  the  Tarchendo  and  after  a 
breathless  climb  came  out  on  the  top  of  the  cliff, 
where  I  overlooked  a  wide  rolling  plateau  sloping 
steeply  to  the  Ta  Tu  on  the  east,  and  enclosed  north 
and  west  by  high  mountains.  The  country  seemed 
barren  and  almost  uninhabited,  as  though  removed 
by  hundreds  of  miles  from  the  hard-won  prosperity 
and  swarming  life  of  the  line  of  Chinese  advance  to 
Tachienlu.  Only  occasionally  did  we  meet  any  one, 
Chinese  or  Mantzu,  and  there  was  no  stir  about  the 
few  dwellings  that  we  passed,  all  high,  fortress-like 
buildings  of  stone.  This  whole  region  is  almost  un- 
known to  Europeans,  and  the  few  Chinese  who  go 
there  are  generally  passing  traders.  According  to 
Hosie,  they  are  allowed  to  take  temporary  wives 
from  the  women  of  the  country  on  payment  of  a  sum 
of  money  to  the  tribal  head,  but  they  must  leave 
them  behind  when  they  depart. 

The  next  day  we  ascended  the  valley  of  the  Tar- 
chendo to  Tachienlu,  a  distance  of  about  twenty 
miles.  There  is  a  rise  of  thirty-five  hundred  feet  on 


120  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

this  stage,  but  so  gradual  is  the  ascent  that  one  real- 
izes it  only  in  watching  the  stream,  which  is  almost 
continuous  rapid  and  cataract.  For  miles  there  was 
scarcely  a  square  yard  of  smooth  water.  The  only 
means  of  crossing  from  one  bank  to  the  other  is  by 
the  rope  bridges,  of  which  I  saw  three.  Several  times 
I  had  a  chance  to  watch  some  one  making  the  trip. 
From  a  bamboo  rope  securely  anchored  on  either 
bank  with  heavy  rocks,  a  sling-seat  is  suspended  by 
means  of  a  section  of  bamboo  which  travels  along 
the  rope.  Seated  in  the  sling  the  weight  of  the  voy- 
ager carries  him  more  than  halfway  across,  but  after 
that  he  must  haul  himself  up  by  sheer  force.  A  slip 
would  mean  certain  death,  and  it  is  said  that  often 
on  reaching  the  middle  of  the  stream  the  impulse  to 
let  go  is  uncontrollable.  Hardy  Western  explorers 
have  frequently  confessed  their  dread  of  these  bridges, 
which  are  found  throughout  the  mountains  of  east- 
ern Asia,  but  I  saw  men  and  women  crossing  as 
though  it  were  all  in  the  day's  work.  But  then  the 
Chinese  have  no  nerves,  you  know. 

Fortunately  the  need  of  crossing  here  did  not  seem 
very  imperative,  for  there  was  little  sign  of  life  on 
the  north  bank  of  the  Tarchendo.  Indeed,  on  our 
side  there  were  no  villages  for  the  whole  distance, 
only  a  few  hamlets  and  now  and  then  a  solitary  rest- 
house.  The  river  is  so  closely  shut  in  by  the  mighty 
rock  walls  on  either  hand  that  there  is  scarcely  room 


ON  THE  MANDARIN   ROAD  121 

for  more  than  the  narrow  trail.  There  were  a  good 
many  walnut  trees  and  willows,  and  I  occasionally 
saw  a  meagre  patch  of  barley  or  Indian  corn,  but 
even  the  Chinese  would  be  hard  put  to  wring  a  liv- 
ing here  were  it  not  for  the  coolie  trade.  In  fact,  every 
other  house  seemed  to  be  a  restaurant  or  tea-house. 
At  one  the  soldier  who  had  escorted  me  from  Ni  T'ou 
covered  himself  with  disgrace  by  getting  into  a  quar- 
rel. Rain  was  falling,  so  I  stayed  in  my  chair  while 
the  coolies  were  drinking  their  everlasting  cups  of 
tea.  Suddenly  there  was  a  great  outcry,  every  one 
pitching  in,  and  I  saw  the  soldier  seize  the  innkeeper 
by  the  queue,  belabouring  him  vigorously  with  the 
flat  of  his  short  broad  sword.  I  called  to  the  inter- 
preter to  interfere,  but  either  he  did  not  hear  me  or 
would  not  obey ;  so  I  scrambled  out  of  my  chair  as 
best  I  could  (a  woman,  as  an  inferior  being,  must  al- 
ways step  over  the  side  pole ;  to  touch  the  pole  that 
rests  on  the  coolie's  shoulder  would  cause  him  to 
have  sores),  and,  throwing  myself  into  the  fray,  hauled 
the  soldier  off.  I  knew,  for  I  had  tested  it,  that  the 
edge  of  his  sword  was  sharp.  When  the  excitement 
had  died  down,  I  learned  that  the  whole  trouble  rose 
from  the  innkeeper's  demanding  payment  for  four 
cakes,  while  the  soldier  insisted  that  he  had  eaten 
only  three.  Who  had  the  right  of  it  I  do  not  know, 
but  I  read  the  man  a  lesson  at  so  misbehaving  him- 
self when  escorting  a  lady,  a  truly  Western  point  of 


122  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

view  which  was  probably  Greek  to  him,  but  anyway 
he  seemed  greatly  downcast  at  my  rebuke,  and  for 
the  rest  of  the  day  hung  about  in  an  apologetic  way, 
occasionally  mutely  laying  a  bunch  of  flowers  on  the 
arm  of  my  chair  as  a  peace  offering. 


CHAPTER  VI 

TACHIENLU 

TACHIENLU  is  surely  sui generis;  there  can  be 
no  other  town  quite  like  it.  Situated  eight  thou- 
sand four  hundred  feet  above  the  sea,  it  seems  to  lie 
at  the  bottom  of  a  well,  the  surrounding  snow-capped 
mountains  towering  perhaps  fifteen  thousand  feet  in 
the  air  above  the  little  town  which,  small  as  it  is,  has 
hardly  room  to  stand,  while  outside  the  wall  there  is 
scarcely  a  foot  of  level  ground.  It  is  wedged  into  the 
angle  where  three  valleys  come  together,  the  Tar  and 
the  Chen  rivers  meeting  just  below  the  town  to  form 
the  Tarchendo,  and  our  first  view  of  the  place  as  we 
turned  the  cliff  corner  that  here  bars  the  gorge,  was 
very  striking,  grey  walls  and  curly  roofs  standing  out 
sharply  from  the  flanking  hillsides. 

Within  the  walls  of  Tachienlu,  China  and  Tibet 
meet.  As  we  made  our  way  through  the  long,  dirty 
main  street,  here  running  parallel  with  the  Tar  which 
comes  tumbling  down  from  the  snow-fields  of  the 
Tibetan  range,  I  was  struck  at  once  by  the  varied 
aspect  of  the  people.  The  dense  crowd  that  surged 
through  the  streets,  some  on  horseback  and  some  on 
foot,  was  more  Tibetan  than  Chinese,  but  the  faces 


124  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

that  peered  out  from  the  shops  were  unmistakably  of 
the  Middle  Kingdom.  Groups  of  fierce-looking  fel- 
lows, clad  in  skins  and  felt,  strode  boldly  along,  their 
dark  faces  bearing  indelible  marks  of  the  hard,  wild 
life  of  the  Great  Plateau.  Many  of  them  carried  weap- 
ons of  some  sort,  for  the  Chinese  have  scorned  to 
disarm  them.  Among  them  walked  impassively  the 
blue-gowned  men  of  the  ruling  race,  fairer,  smaller, 
feebler,  and  yet  undoubtedly  master.  It  was  the  tri- 
umph of  the  organizing  mind  over  the  brute  force  of 
the  lower  animal.  Almost  one  man  in  five  was  a  red- 
robed  lama,  no  cleaner  in  dress  nor  more  intelligent 
in  face  than  the  rest,  and  above  the  din  of  the  crowd 
and  the  rush  of  the  river  rose  incessantly  weird  chant- 
ing and  the  long-drawn  wail  of  horns  from  the  temples 
scattered  about  the  town.  Lamaism  has  Tachienlu  in 
its  grip,  and  I  could  have  fancied  myself  back  in 
Himis  lamassery,  thousands  of  miles  away  on  the 
western  frontier  of  Tibet.  It  was  an  extraordinarily 
picturesque  scene,  full  of  life  and  sound  and  colour. 

Marco  Polo  described  the  territory  lying  west  of 
Ya-chou  as  "  Thibeth,"  and  a  century  ago  the  Chi- 
nese frontier  stopped  at  Tachienlu,  but  to-day  Batang, 
a  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles  to  the  west  as  the 
crow  flies,  is  the  western  limit  of  Szechuan.  In  actual 
fact,  however,  direct  administration  by  the  Chinese 
stops  at  the  Ta  Tu,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river  the 
people  being  governed  by  their  tribal  chiefs.  Ta- 


TACHIENLU  125 

chienlu  is  in  the  principality  of  the  King  of  Chala,  whose 
palace  is  one  of  the  two  or  three  noteworthy  build- 
ings in  the  place,  and  the  Tibetan  population  of  some 
seven  hundred  families,  not  counting  the  lamas,  is 
directly  under  his  authority.  But  there  is  a  power 
behind  the  throne,  and  the  town  is  really  governed 
by  the  Chinese  officials,  for  it  is  the  key  to  the  coun- 
try to  the  west,  and  the  Imperial  Government  has 
long  been  awake  to  the  importance  of  controlling  the 
great  trade  and  military  road  to  Lhasa.  What  the 
effect  of  the  Revolution  will  be  upon  the  relations  of 
China  and  Tibet  remains  to  be  seen.  Already  Chao 
Erh  Feng,  the  man  who  as  Warden  of  the  Marches 
had  made  Chinese  rule  more  of  a  reality  in  Lhasa 
than  ever  before,  has  fallen  a  victim  to  Manchu  weak- 
ness; hated  by  Chinese  and  Tibetan  alike,  he  met 
his  death  at  the  hands  of  a  rebellious  soldiery  in 
January,  1912. 

Between  Tachienlu  and  Lhasa  lie  many  hundred 
miles  of  barren,  windswept  plateaus  and  perilous 
mountain  passes.  There  are,  I  believe,  at  least  ten  of 
these  passes  higher  than  Mont  Blanc.  Connection 
between  the  two  places  is  over  one  of  the  most  diffi- 
cult mountain  roads  in  the  world,  yet  it  was  by  this 
route  that  the  Chinese  finally  conquered  Tibet  in  the 
eighteenth  century,  and  to-day  most  of  the  trade 
goes  the  same  way.  Those  who  deny  the  Chinese  all 
soldierly  qualities  must  have  forgotten  their  achieve- 


126  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

ments  against  the  Tibetans,  let  alone  the  still  more 
extraordinary  military  feat  of  their  victory  over  the 
Gurkhas  of  Nepal,  when  a  force  of  seventy  thousand 
men  of  the  Middle  Kingdom  crossed  the  whole  width 
of  the  most  inaccessible  country  in  the  world,  and, 
fighting  at  a  distance  of  two  thousand  miles  from 
their  base,  defeated  the  crack  warriors  of  the  East. 

The  China  Inland  Mission  has  a  station  at  Ta- 
chienlu,  but  to  my  disappointment  the  two  missionaries 
were  away  at  the  time  of  my  visit,  and  although  their 
Chinese  helpers  made  me  welcome,  providing  a  place 
for  me  in  one  of  the  buildings  of  the  mission  com- 
pound, I  felt  it  a  real  loss  not  to  talk  with  men  who 
would  have  had  so  much  of  interest  to  tell.  More- 
over, I  had  been  looking  forward  to  meeting  my  own 
kind  once  more  after  two  weeks  of  Chinese  society. 
Fortunately  another  traveller  turned  up  in  Tachienlu 
about  the  time  I  did,  an  English  officer  of  the  Indian 
army,  returning  to  duty  by  a  roundabout  route  after 
two  years'  leave  at  home.  As  he  too  was  installed  in 
the  mission  compound  we  soon  discovered  each  other, 
and  I  had  the  pleasure  of  some  interesting  talk,  and 
of  really  dining  again.  Eating  alone  in  a  smelly  Chi- 
nese inn  cannot  by  any  stretch  be  called  dining.  I 
found  that  Captain  Bailey  had  gone  with  the  Young- 
husband  expedition  to  Lhasa,  and  was  now  on  his 
way  to  Batang  with  the  hope  of  being  able  to  cross 
Tibet  from  the  Chinese  side.  We  had  an  enjoyable 


TACHIENLU  127 

evening  comparing  experiences.  I  was  impressed,  as 
often  before,  by  the  comfort  a  man  manages  to  secure 
for  himself  when  travelling.  If  absolutely  necessary, 
he  will  get  down  to  the  bare  bones  of  living,  but  or- 
dinarily the  woman,  if  she  has  made  up  her  mind  to 
rough  it,  is  far  more  indifferent  to  soft  lying  and  high 
living,  especially  the  latter,  than  the  man.  One  thing 
I  had,  however,  that  Captain  Bailey  lacked,  —  a  dog, 
—  and  I  think  he  rather  envied  me  my  four-footed 
companion.  I  know  I  begrudged  him  his  further  ad- 
venture into  the  wilds  beyond  Tachienlu.  Months 
later  I  learned  that  although  he  did  not  reach  Lhasa 
as  he  had  hoped  to  do,  his  explorations  in  the  little- 
known  region  between  Assam  and  Tibet  and  China 
had  won  him  much  fame  and  the  Gill  Medal  awarded 
by  the  Royal  Geographical  Society. 

Thanks  to  Captain  Bailey  I  suffered  no  inconven- 
ience from  the  absence  of  the  missionaries  on  whom 
I  had  relied  for  help  in  getting  a  cheque  cashed,  as  he 
kindly  introduced  me  to  the  postmaster,  to  whom  he 
had  brought  a  letter  from  the  English  post-commis- 
sioner at  Chengtu,  and  this  official  most  courteously 
gave  me  all  the  money  I  needed  for  the  next  stage 
of  my  journey.  The  Imperial  Post-Office  was  in 
1911  still  under  the  same  management  as  the  cus- 
toms service,  and  was  marked  by  the  same  efficiency. 
All  over  China  it  had  spread  a  network  of  post- 
routes,  and  by  this  time,  unless  the  Revolution  has 


128  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

upset  things,  as  it  probably  has,  there  should  be  a 
regular  mail  service  between  Tachienlu  and  Batang 
and  Lhasa.  To  be  sure,  the  arrangements  at  Ta- 
chienlu were  rather  primitive,  but  the  surprising 
thing  was  that  there  should  be  any  post-office  at  all. 
When  I  went  for  my  letters  the  morning  after  I  ar- 
rived, I  was  shown  a  large  heap  of  stuff  on  the  floor 
of  the  little  office,  and  the  interpreter  and  I  spent  a 
good  half-hour  disentangling  my  things  from  the 
dusty  pile,  most  of  which  was  apparently  for  mem- 
bers of  the  large  French  mission  in  Tachienlu.  I  was 
sorry  not  to  have  a  chance  to  meet  representatives 
of  the  mission,  which  has  been  established  for  a  long 
time,  and  works,  I  believe,  among  both  Tibetans  and 
Chinese,  the  Protestants  confining  themselves  to  the 
Chinese  community.  Nor  was  I  more  successful  in 
learning  about  the  Protestant  work,  owing  to  the  ab- 
sence of  the  missionaries  on  a  journey  to  Batang. 
But  I  was  greatly  impressed  by  the  truly  beautiful 
face  and  dignified  bearing  of  a  native  pastor  who 
called  upon  me  at  my  lodgings.  Fine,  serene,  pure 
of  countenance,  he  might  have  posed  for  a  Buddha 
or  a  Chinese  St.  John.  In  my  limited  experience  of 
the  Chinese,  the  men  who  stand  out  from  their  fel- 
lows for  beauty  of  expression  and  attractiveness  of 
manner  are  two  or  three  Christians  of  the  better 
class.  Naturally  fine-featured  and  of  dignified  pre- 
sence, the  touch  of  the  Christian  faith  seems  to  have 


TACHIENLU  129 

transformed  the  supercilious  impassiveness  of  their 
class  into  a  serenity  full  of  charm.  It  is  a  pity  that  it 
is  not  more  often  so,  but  the  zeal  of  the  West  mars  as 
well  as  mends,  and  in  imparting  Western  beliefs  and 
Western  learning  carelessly  and  needlessly  destroys 
Eastern  ideals  of  conduct  and  manner,  often  more 
reasonable  and  more  attractive  than  our  own.  The 
complacent  cocksureness  of  the  Occidental  attitude 
toward  Oriental  ways  and  standards  has  little  to 
rest  on.  We  have  reviled  the  people  of  the  East 
in  the  past  for  their  unwillingness  to  admit  that  there 
was  anything  we  could  teach  them,  and  they  are 
amending  their  ways,  but  we  have  shown  and  show 
still  a  stupidity  quite  equal  to  theirs  in  our  refusal  to 
learn  of  them.  Take,  for  example,  the  small  matter  of 
manners,  —  if  it  be  a  small  matter.  More  than  one 
teacher  in  America  has  confessed  the  value  of  the 
object  lesson  in  good  breeding  given  by  the  chance 
student  from  the  East,  but  how  few  Westerners  in 
China  show  any  desire  to  pattern  after  the  dignified, 
courteous  bearing  of  the  Chinese  gentleman.  I  have 
met  bad  manners  in  the  Flowery  Kingdom,  but  not 
among  the  natives. 

It  had  been  a  long,  hard  pull  from  Ning-yiian-fu  ; 
two  weeks'  continuous  travelling  is  a  tax  upon  every 
one,  but  at  no  place  had  we  found  comfortable  quar- 
ters for  the  whole  of  the  party,  and  as  the  men  pre- 
ferred to  push  on,  I  was  not  inclined  to  object.  But 


130  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

usually  a  seventh-day  rest  is  very  acceptable  to  them ; 
so  we  were  all  glad  for  a  little  breathing-space  in  Ta- 
chienlu.  The  servants  and  coolies  spent  the  first  day 
in  a  general  tidying-up,  getting  a  shave,  face  and 
head,  and  having  their  queues  washed  and  combed 
and  replaited.  Some  also  made  themselves  fine  in  new 
clothes,  but  others  were  content  to  wash  the  old.  As 
none  of  them,  with  the  exception  of  the  fu  t'ou,  had 
ever  been  in  Tachienlu  before,  they  were  as  keen  to 
see  the  sights  as  I  was,  and  in  my  rambles  about  the 
town  the  next  two  or  three  days,  I  was  greeted  at 
every  turn  by  my  coolies,  enjoying  to  the  full  their 
hard-earned  holiday. 

There  was  less  to  see  of  interest  in  Tachienlu  than 
I  had  expected.  The  shops  are  filled  mainly  with 
ordinary  Chinese  wares,  and  my  efforts  to  find  some 
Tibetan  curios  were  fruitless,  those  shown  to  me 
being  of  little  value.  I  imagine  it  is  a  matter  of 
chance  if  one  secures  anything  really  worth  while. 
At  any  rate,  neither  the  quaint  teapots  nor  the  hand 
praying- wheels  that  I  was  seeking  were  forthcoming. 
Nor  could  I  find  any  decent  leopard  skins,  which  a 
short  time  ago  formed  an  important  article  of  com- 
merce, so  plentiful  were  they.  But  at  least  I  had  the 
fun  of  bartering  with  the  people,  whom  I  found  much 
the  most  interesting  thing  in  Tachienlu,  and  thanks 
to  the  indifference  or  the  politeness  of  the  Tibetan  I 
was  able  to  wander  about  freely  without  being 


TACHIENLU  131 

dogged  by  a  throng  of  men  and  boys.  Chinese  soldiers 
were  much  in  evidence,  for  this  is  naturally  an  im- 
portant military  post  as  well  as  the  forwarding  depot 
for  the  troops  stationed  along  the  great  western  trade 
route  to  Batang  and  Lhasa.  The  Chinese  population 
under  their  protection,  numbering  some  four  hundred 
families,  mostly  traders,  looked  sleek  and  prosperous. 
Evidently  they  made  a  good  living  off  the  country, 
unlike  the  Tibetans  who  were  generally  dirty  and 
ragged  and  poor  in  appearance.  I  must  confess  that 
I  was  disappointed  at  the  latter.  In  spite  of  their 
hardy,  muscular  aspect  and  bold  bearing,  I  did  not 
find  them  attractive  as  do  most  travellers.  They 
lacked  the  grotesque  jollity  of  the  Ladakhis  of  West- 
ern Tibet,  their  cousins  in  creed  and  race,  and  I  met 
nothing  of  the  manly  friendliness  which  marked  the 
people  of  Mongolia  whom  I  had  to  do  with  later. 
Never  have  I  seen  men  of  more  vicious  expression 
than  some  I  met  in  my  strolls  about  Tachienlu,  and 
I  could  well  believe  the  stories  told  of  the  ferocity 
shown  by  the  lamas  along  the  frontier.  Very  likely 
the  people  are  better  than  their  priests,  but  if  so,  their 
looks  belie  them.  There  is  rarely  a  man  —  or  a  people 
—  so  low  as  to  lack  a  defender,  and  it  is  a  pleasing 
side  to  the  white  man's  rule  in  the  East,  that  if  he  be 
half  a  man  he  is  likely  to  stand  up  for  the  weak  folk  he 
governs.  It  may  be  due  to  pride  of  ownership,  or  it 
may  be  the  result  of  a  knowledge  born  of  intimate 


132  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

acquaintance,  but  whatever  the  cause,  no  race  is  quite 
without  champions  in  the  white  man's  congress.  Cap- 
tain Bailey  who  had  had  long  experience  of  the  Tibet- 
ans in  administrative  work  on  the  northeastern 
borderland  of  India,  was  no  exception,  and  he  de- 
fended them  vigorously.  I  had  no  knowledge  to  set 
against  his,  but  when  he  declared  that  they  were  a 
clean  people  it  seemed  to  me  he  was  stretching  a 
point,  for  I  should  have  thought  their  dirt  was  as  un- 
deniable as  it  was  excusable  in  the  burning  sun  or 
biting  cold  of  their  high  plateaus. 

Practically  all  the  traffic  between  China  and  its 
great  western  dependency  passes  through  Tachienlu, 
and  the  little  town  is  full  of  bustle  and  stir.  From 
Tibet  are  brought  skins  and  wool  and  gold  and  musk, 
to  be  exchanged  here  for  tobacco  and  cloth  and  mis- 
cellaneous articles,  but  tea,  of  course,  forms  the  great 
article  of  trade,  the  quantity  sent  from  Tachienlu 
annually  amounting  to  more  than  twelve  million 
pounds.  Conspicuous  in  the  town  are  the  great  ware- 
houses where  the  tea  is  stored,  awaiting  sale,  and 
there  are  numerous  Tibetan  establishments  where  it 
is  repacked  for  the  animal  carriage  which  here  re- 
places the  carrier  coolies  from  the  east.  Among  the 
Chinese  the  trade  is  mostly  in  the  hands  of  a  few 
great  merchants  who  deal  with  the  women  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Tibetan  priesthood  who  practically 
monopolize  the  sale  in  their  country,  deriving  a  large 


TACHIENLU  133 

income  from  the  high  prices  they  charge  the  poor 
people  to  whom  tea  is  a  necessity  of  life. 

When  I  grew  weary  of  the  confusion  and  dirt  of 
the  narrow  streets  I  was  glad  to  escape  to  the  hillside 
above  my  lodgings.  The  mission  compound  is  small 
and  confined,  affording  no  room  for  a  garden,  al- 
though fine  masses  of  iris  growing  along  the  walls 
brightened  up  the  severity  of  the  grey  stone  build- 
ings; but  a  little  climb  behind  the  mission  house 
brought  me  to  a  peaceful  nook  whence  I  could  get  a 
glorious  view  over  the  town  and  up  and  down  the 
valley,  here  so  narrow  that  it  seemed  possible  to  throw 
a  stone  against  the  opposite  hillside. 

The  first  fine  morning  after  my  arrival  I  made  an 
early  start  for  the  summer  palace  of  the  King  of 
Chala,  situated  about  eight  miles  from  Tachienlu  in  a 
beautiful,  lonely  valley  among  the  mountains.  This  is 
the  favourite  camping-place  of  Chengtu  missionaries, 
who  no  wand  then  brave  the  eleven  days'  journey  to 
and  fro  to  exchange  their  hothouse  climate  for  a  brief 
holiday  in  the  glorious  scenery  and  fine  air  of  these 
health-giving  uplands.  We  were  mounted,  the  inter- 
preter and  I,  on  ponies  provided  by  the  Yamen,  one 
worse  than  the  other,  and  both  unfit  for  the  rough 
scramble.  After  traversing  the  town,  first  on  one  side 
and  then  on  the  other  of  the  river  which  we  crossed 
by  a  picturesque  wooden  bridge,  roofed  in  but  with 
open  sides,  we  passed  out  at  the  South  Gate  —  Ta- 


134  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

chienlu  has  no  West  Gate  —  and  found  ourselves  in 
a  small  suburb  with  a  few  meagre  gardens.  A  mile 
farther  along  we  crossed  the  river  again  by  a  striking 
single  arch  bridge,  known  as  the  "  Gate  of  Tibet." 
We  were  now  on  the  great  trade  route  to  Lhasa,  but 
between  us  and  the  mysterious  city  lay  many  days  of 
weary  travel. 

From  time  to  time  we  met  groups  of  Tibetans,  men 
and  women,  rough-looking  and  shy,  with  the  shy- 
ness of  a  wild  animal.  Generally  after  a  moment's 
pause  to  reassure  themselves,  they  answered  my 
greeting  in  jolly  fashion,  seeming  quite  ready  to 
make  friends.  Occasionally  the  way  was  blocked  by 
trains  of  ox-like  yaks,  the  burden-bearers  of  the  snow- 
fields,  bringing  their  loads  of  skins  and  felt  and 
musk  and  gold.  Astride  of  one  was  a  nice  old  man 
who  stuck  out  his  tongue  at  me  in  polite  Tibetan 
fashion. 

After  an  hour's  ride  we  left  the  highway  and 
turned  into  a  beautiful  green  valley,  following  a  very 
bad  trail  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  mountains,  the 
soft  meadows  gay  with  flowers  forming  a  charming 
contrast  to  the  snow-peaks  that  barred  the  upper  end 
of  the  valley.  We  came  first  to  the  New  Palace,  a 
large  rambling  building  having  no  more  architectural 
pretensions  than  an  ordinary  Chinese  inn.  As  the 
king's  brother,  who  makes  his  home  there,  was  away, 
I  saw  nothing  more  of  the  place  than  the  great  court- 


TACHIENLU  135 

yard  filled  with  mangy,  half-starved  dogs  and  un- 
kempt men.  Not  far  off  is  one  of  the  great  attractions 
of  the  place,  at  least  to  the  natives,  —  a  hot  sulphur 
spring.  To  the  disappointment  of  my  Tibetan  guide 
I  declined  to  visit  it,  preferring  a  leisurely  cold  lunch 
on  the  bank  of  a  rushing  stream  which  was  vigor- 
ously turning  a  large  prayer-wheel,  a  cylinder  of 
wood  inscribed  many  times  over  with  the  mystic 
words  of  the  Buddhist  prayer,  "Om  mani  padme 
hum,"  oftenest  repeated  perhaps  of  all  prayers.  Each 
revolution  of  the  wheel  was  equivalent  to  as  many 
repetitions  of  the  words  as  there  were  inscribed  on 
the  wood.  So  night  and  day,  while  the  stream  runs, 
prayers  are  going  up  for  the  king,  —  and  truly  he 
needs  them,  poor  man,  between  the  bullying  of  his 
Chinese  overlords  and  the  machinations  of  turbulent 
lamas.  Other  indications  of  the  Buddhist's  comfort- 
able way  of  getting  his  prayers  said  for  him  are 
found  all  about  Tachienlu.  From  temple  roof  and 
wayside  rock  flags  bearing  the  same  legend  wave  in 
the  breeze,  each  flutter  a  prayer,  and  just  outside  the 
city  we  rode  by  a  long  stone  wall,  much  like  those 
of  New  England,  only  its  top  was  covered  over  with 
inscribed  stones.  If  you  passed  by,  having  the 
"mani"  wall  on  your  right  hand,  each  inscribed 
stone  would  pray  for  you ;  hence  the  trail  always 
forks  to  suit  the  coming  and  the  going  Buddhist,  and 
I  remember  well  the  insolent  pride  with  which  my 


136  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

Mohammedan  servants  always  took  the  right  hand 
when  passing-  these  walls  in  Ladakh. 

A  mile  farther  up  the  valley  we  came  to  the  Old 
Palace,  a  collection  of  hovels  banked  with  piles  of 
manure.  Far  more  attractive  than  the  royal  residence 
were  some  tents  not  far  off,  where  a  band  of  Tibet- 
ans, retainers  of  the  prince,  were  encamped.  They 
came  out  to  greet  us  in  friendly  fashion,  pointing  out 
a  blind  trail  up  the  valley  where  we  could  get  better 
views  of  the  snow-peaks ;  but  we  had  to  turn  back, 
sorry  though  I  was  to  leave  the  spot,  parklike  in  its 
beauty  of  forest  and  meadow,  a  veritable  oasis  in  a 
wilderness  of  rock  and  ice.  It  was  more  like  home 
than  anything  I  had  seen  in  West  China,  for  there 
were  stretches  of  fine,  grassy  meadows  where  the 
royal  herds  of  cattle  were  grazing,  and  all  at  once  I 
realized  that  it  was  weeks  since  I  had  seen  a  field  of 
grass  or  real  cows.  It  is  the  great  lack  in  this  coun- 
try. Pigs  abound,  and  fowls,  but  there  is  no  place 
for  cattle,  and  the  horses  live  on  beans  and  corn,  or 
more  likely  on  leaves  and  twigs. 

Priest-ridden  Tachienlu  boasts  many  temples  and 
lamasseries,  and  the  last  day  of  my  stay  I  paid  a  visit 
to  one  of  the  largest,  not  far  from  the  South  Gate.  It 
was  a  wide,  rambling,  wooden  building  standing 
near  a  grove  of  unusually  fine  trees,  a  sort  of  alder. 
The  approach  was  not  unattractive,  flowers  growing 
under  the  walls  and  about  the  entrance.  Once  inside 


TACHIENLU  137 

the  portal,  we  found  ourselves  in  a  large  courtyard 
paved  with  stone  and  surrounded  by  two-story  gal- 
leried  buildings.  Facing  us  was  the  temple,  scarcely 
more  imposing  in  outward  appearance  than  the 
others.  On  one  side  a  group  of  half-naked  lamas 
were  gathered  about  an  older  man  who  seemed  to  be 
relating  or  expounding  something,  whether  gossip  or 
doctrine  I  could  not  tell,  but  I  should  judge  the  for- 
mer from  their  expressions.  They  paid  little  atten- 
tion to  us,  nor  did  others  strolling  about  the  yard, 
but  the  big  dogs  roaming  loose  were  not  backward 
in  their  greeting,  although  to  my  surprise  they  did 
not  seem  at  all  ferocious,  and  treated  my  imperturb- 
able little  dog  with  distant  respect.  Earlier  travel- 
lers recount  unpleasant  experiences,  but  perhaps  the 
lamas  have  learned  better  in  late  years,  and  fasten 
up  their  dangerous  dogs  if  visitors  are  expected. 
Afterwards  I  saw  in  another  inner  courtyard  a  large, 
heavy-browed  brute  adorned  with  a  bright  red  frill 
and  securely  chained.  He  looked  savage,  and  could 
have  given  a  good  account  of  himself  in  any  fight. 

While  I  was  waiting  for  permission  to  enter  the 
temple,  I  inspected  the  stuffed  animals  —  dogs, 
calves,  leopards  —  suspended  on  the  verandah.  They 
were  fast  going  to  decay  from  dust  and  moth,  but  I 
was  told  that  they  were  reputed  sacred.  The  temple, 
which  we  were  forced  to  enter  from  a  side  door,  was 
large  and  high,  hung  with  scrolls  and  banners  and 


138  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

filled  with  images,  but  it  was  so  dark  that  I  found  it 
difficult  to  discern  much  save  a  good-sized  figure  of 
Buddha,  not  badly  done. 

At  the  invitation  of  an  old  lama,  a  friend  of  our 
guide,  I  was  invited  to  a  large,  disorderly  dining-  or 
living-hall  on  the  upper  floor,  where  we  were  very 
courteously  served  with  tea,  Chinese  fashion.  The 
old  man  had  a  rather  nice  face,  and  I  tried  to  learn  a 
little  about  the  place,  but  conversation  through  two 
Chinese  intermediaries,  one  speaking  imperfect  Eng- 
lish and  the  other  bad  Tibetan,  was  not  very  satis- 
factory, and  I  soon  gave  up  the  attempt.  I  did  suc- 
ceed, however,  in  making  the  lama  understand  my 
wish  to  hire  some  one  to  cut  for  me  a  praying-stone, 
to  which  he  replied  that  there  were  plenty  outside, 
why  did  I  not  take  one  of  them  ?  I  had  thought  of 
that  myself,  but  feared  to  raise  a  storm  about  my 
ears.  Now,  acting  on  his  advice,  I  made  a  choice  at 
my  leisure  and  no  one  objected.  Under  the  double 
restraint  of  an  unusually  strong  prince,  backed  by 
Chinese  officials,  the  priests  of  Tachienlu  are  less 
truculent  than  farther  west,  but  at  best  Lamaism  rests 
with  a  heavy  hand  upon  the  Tibetans ;  it  is  greedy 
and  repulsive  in  aspect  and  brutalizing  in  its  effects ; 
wholly  unlike  the  gentle,  even  though  ignorant  and 
superstitious,  Buddhism  of  China. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE   LESSER  TRAIL 

AT  Tachienlu  I  reached  the  western  limit  of  my 
wanderings ;  not  the  western  boundary  of  China, 
nor  yet  of  my  desire,  but  my  time  was  nearly  spent ; 
in  less  than  four  months  I  had  to  be  back  in  England ; 
moreover,  late  summer  was  not  a  favourable  season 
for  descending  the  Yangtse.  So  with  a  longing 
glance  up  the  great  Lhasa  trail  I  turned  my  face  east- 
wards ;  but  it  is  always  wearisome  to  retrace  one's 
steps,  and  a  chance  remark  of  Captain  Bailey  set  me 
on  the  scent  of  an  alternative  route  to  Ya-chou.  As 
far  as  Lu  Ting  Ch'iao  there  was  no  choice ;  all  traffic 
across  the  Ta  Tu  must  seek  the  great  iron  bridge 
both  coming  and  going,  but  at  that  point  there  turned 
off  to  the  north  and  east  a  shorter  trail  than  the  main 
packroad  which  we  had  struck  near  Ni  T'ou.  Al- 
though more  direct,  it  was  less  travelled  owing  to  the 
difficulties  of  the  way,  for  there  were  two  steep  moun- 
tain-ranges to  be  crossed,  and  path  and  bridges  were 
often  insecure,  calling  for  a  sure  foot  and  a  steady 
head.  It  was  not  easy  to  get  precise  information  as  to 
the  condition  of  the  road.  Captain  Bailey  knew  little 
save  the  mere  fact  of  its  existence,  and  although 
Major  Davies  had  taken  this  route,  he  notes  in  his 


I4o  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

book  "  Yunnan  "  nothing  more  than  that  it  is  much 
too  steep  for  animals.  Even  the  friendly  postmaster 
failed  us  here ;  all  he  could  tell  was  that  an  official 
who  had  attempted  to  take  ponies  through  lost  them 
all,  swept  away  by  the  torrents.  The  interpreter 
wagged  his  head  doubtfully  when  I  suggested  my 
plan,  but  his  opinion  did  not  matter,  for,  like  all  of 
his  class  in  China,  he  was  disinclined  to  active  ex- 
ertion. And  when  I  called  the  fu  t'ou  into  council  I 
found  he  had  once  gone  this  way,  and  was  not  in- 
clined to  go  again. 

Ku  Niang  (my  title) :  "  I  wish  to  go  to  Ya-chou 
by  the  Lesser  Trail." 

Fu  £ou  :  "  It  is  impossible.'1 

Ku  Niang:  "  I  intend  to  go  all  the  same,  and  I 
expect  you  to  go  with  me." 

Fu  fou :  "  Very  well.  I  will  guide  the  Ku  Niang  by 
the  Lesser  Trail,  but  the  pony  cannot  go,  nor  the 
chairs,  nor  the  men,  for  it  is  impassable  for  shoulder 
loads,  and  these  are  Ning-yuan  men  who  know  no 
other  way  of  carrying." 

Apparently  the  fu  t'ou  and  the  cook,  Jack  and  I 
were  the  only  ones  equal  to  the  trip,  as  I  had  already 
told  the  interpreter  he  might  go  by  the  main  road. 
But  persistence  conquers  most  things  in  the  East. 
The  pony  should  be  sent  round  by  the  longer  way  in 
charge  of  the  ma-fu.  As  for  the  interpreter,  when  he 
found  I  was  ready  to  get  along  without  him,  he  de- 


THE  LESSER  TRAIL  141 

cided  to  stay  with  me.  I  would  not  have  the  Ning- 
yiian  men  discharged  if  they  wished  to  go  on  with 
me  to  Ya-chou  and  Chengtu,  as  first  arranged  but  I 
was  sure  that  by  hiring  two  or  three  extra  coolies,  so 
as  to  lighten  the  loads,  they  could  get  along ;  nor  did 
the  chairs  present  any  real  difficulty.  We  would  walk 
when  the  trail  was  bad,  and  surely  they  could  be  taken 
empty  wherever  pack-coolies  went.  So  it  proved,  all 
was  arranged  as  I  planned,  and  in  the  end  everything 
turned  out  satisfactorily. 

Our  departure  from  Tachienlu  was  attended  with 
the  usual  noise  and  confusion ;  nothing  is  done  quietly 
in  China.  Also  there  were  the  customary  delays.  As 
we  had  only  a  short  stage  before  us,  I  sat  serenely 
aloof  on  the  steps  of  the  mission  house,  enjoying  for 
the  last  time  the  wonderful  views  over  the  town  to 
the  snow  peaks  above,  while  things  gradually  got 
themselves  straight.  After  a  long  wait  for  the  second 
soldier,  who  never  turned  up,  we  were  at  last  off,  and 
the  descent  of  the  valley  was  very  enjoyable  in  the 
soft  grey  light  of  a  misty  day.  As  the  river  had  risen 
appreciably  during  our  stay  in  Tachienlu,  it  rushed 
along  at  a  fine  rate  between  the  high,  steep  banks, 
and  I  held  my  breath  as  I  watched  people  pulling 
themselves  over  by  the  perilous  rope  bridges.  Half- 
way to  Wa  Ssu  Kou  we  met  a  procession  of  six 
chairs,  and  from  each  looked  out  the  fair,  smiling  face 
of  a  French  sister  bound  to  her  mission  station  at 


142  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

Tachienlu.  Already  in  thought  the  town  seemed  purer 
and  better  for  the  presence  of  these  noble  women, 
who  had  probably  left  their  homes  for  good,  to  take 
up  a  work  which  they  would  lay  down  only  with  life. 

We  found  room  in  Wa  Ssu  Kou  in  the  same  "comfy  " 
inn  as  before,  and  the  welcome  we  received  gave  me 
a  truly  homelike  feeling.  Soon  after  starting  the  next 
morning  we  passed  the  funeral  cortege  of  a  Chinese 
official  of  Tachienlu,  making  his  last  long  journey  to 
his  distant  home  two  hundred  li  beyond  Chengtu. 
The  ponderous  coffin  in  its  red  case,  upon  which  stood 
the  usual  white  cock  to  avert  disaster,  was  pre- 
ceded by  men  carrying  flags  and  cymbals  which  they 
clashed  in  accompaniment  to  the  almost  continuous 
chanting  of  the  eight  bearers.  As  they  stopped  for 
frequent  halts  we  had  soon  left  them  far  behind,  but 
late  at  night  they  arrived  at  Lu  Ting  and  were  given 
quarters  in  the  same  temple  where  we  were  lodged, 
for  I  had  refused  to  try  the  inns  again. 

While  it  was  still  dark  the  next  morning  we  were 
aroused  by  the  sound  of  chanting  and  clashing  cym- 
bals in  the  court  outside.  The  bearers  of  the  dead 
were  starting  on  another  stage  of  their  long  journey, 
and  at  quarter-past  six  we  too  were  off,  after  a  last 
parting  injunction  to  the  ma-fu  to  take  good  care  of 
the  pony.  Already  the  town  was  astir,  the  market- 
place, as  we  passed  through,  crowded  with  traders 
and  their  produce,  chiefly  good-looking  vegetables 


THE  LESSER  TRAIL  143 

and  fruit.  For  a  few  miles  we  kept  up  the  left  bank 
of  the  Ta  Tu,  and  then  turned  abruptly  up  the  moun- 
tain-side. Here  my  chair-men  halted  for  breakfast 
and  I  did  not  see  them  again  until  we  reached  our 
night's  stopping-place.  Alone  with  Jack  I  kept  on 
along  the  steep  trail,  revelling  in  my  freedom.  At 
first  we  met  few  people,  although  later  in  the  day  the 
number  increased,  but  wherever  the  way  seemed 
doubtful  there  was  always  some  one  to  put  me 
straight  by  signs.  After  a  little  we  dropped  by  a 
sharp  descent  into  the  valley  of  a  small  wild  river 
flowing  into  the  Ta  Tu  from  the  east  We  kept  up 
this,  crossing  the  stream  from  side  to  side  on  planks 
and  stepping-stones.  After  passing  through  two  tiny 
hamlets  embowered  in  walnut  trees,  we  reached  the 
head  of  the  valley  and  faced  a  long,  steep  zigzag. 
The  climb  was  hard,  hot  work,  but  I  found  some  di- 
version in  a  friendly  race  with  a  good-looking  woman 
going  the  same  way ;  her  unbound  feet  kept  up  with 
mine  while  our  dogs  romped  along  gaily.  Women 
with  unbound  feet  were  far  more  common  here  than 
elsewhere  in  my  travels,  and  they  seemed  exception- 
ally alert  and  intelligent,  but  the  population  of  the 
region  is  scanty,  many  of  the  people  being  new- 
comers of  Hakka  stock.  Arrived  at  the  top  of  the  cliff 
we  found  ourselves  on  a  narrow  ridge,  and  for  the 
rest  of  the  short  stage  our  way  led  along  the  face  of 
the  mountain,  from  time  to  time  topping  a  wooded 


144  A  WAYFARER   IN   CHINA 

spur.  Everywhere  azaleas  made  the  air  sweet  and 
the  steep  slopes  wonderful  with  colour.  At  length  we 
dropped  without  warning  into  a  little  village  at  the 
head  of  a  precipitous  narrow  ravine,  where  we  spent 
the  night  in  an  unusually  interesting  inn.  Save  for 
two  or  three  private  rooms,  the  best  of  which  was 
given  to  me,  all  life  centred  in  a  great  hall  open  to 
the  roof  and  with  merely  a  suggestion  of  partition  in 
a  few  rough  railings.  Through  the  open  doors  men, 
children,  pigs  and  fowls,  cats  and  dogs,  strolled  in 
from  the  rain.  Up  in  the  roof  our  chairs  were  slung 
out  of  the  way.  Each  coolie,  having  secured  a  strip 
of  matting,  had  found  his  place.  Some  were  cleaning 
off  the  sweat  and  dirt  of  the  day's  work  with  hot 
water  :  not  until  they  have  done  that  can  they  obtain 
the  quilts  that  are  rented  for  twenty  cash  each  ;  others 
had  already  curled  up  for  the  afternoon  pipe  of  opium, 
while  still  others  were  busy  preparing  the  evening 
meal  over  the  big  semicircular  range.  In  one  pot 
bean-cake  was  being  made,  a  long,  complicated  pro- 
cess ;  in  another,  cakes  were  frying  in  oil ;  in  an- 
other, rice  was  boiling.  One  of  my  chair  coolies 
seemed  to  be  the  chef  par  excellence ;  brandishing  a 
big  iron  ladle,  he  went  from  pot  to  pot,  stirring,  tast- 
ing, seasoning,  and  generally  lording  it  over  two 
others  working  under  his  orders.  In  full  control  of 
the  whole  was  a  good-looking  woman  with  bound 
feet,  apparently  the  proprietor  of  the  inn ;  at  least  I 


THE  LESSER  TRAIL  145 

saw  no  man  to  fill  the  post.  Every  one  was  good- 
tempered  and  friendly,  and  I  was  glad  to  exchange 
the  tiresome  seclusion  of  the  town  inns  for  the  bust- 
ling scene  in  which  I  was  willingly  included,  tasting 
each  dish,  watching  the  men  at  their  games,  making 
friends  with  the  children. 

The  pouring  rain  of  the  night  gave  way  to  a  soft 
drizzle  at  dawn,  and  we  were  off  before  seven.  As  we 
ascended  the  valley  we  faced  a  solid  green  wall 
flushed  with  masses  of  pink  azaleas  and  cherry-red 
rhododendrons,  and  broken  by  half  a  dozen  streams 
which  flung  themselves  over  the  lip  of  the  cliff  to 
dash  in  feathery  cascades  from  rock  to  rock  below. 
Our  way  led  back  and  forth  over  rushing  mountain 
streams.  Riding  was  of  course  out  of  the  question, 
and  I  had  long  since  left  my  chair-coolies  behind ; 
but  one  of  the  Tachienlu  men,  a  strong,  active  fellow 
with  bits  of  coral  adorning  his  black  queue,  was  very 
alert  in  looking  out  for  me,  always  waiting  at  a  diffi- 
cult place  with  a  helping  hand.  We  crossed  the  Ma- 
An  Shan  Pass,  about  ten  thousand  feet  high,  by  the 
middle  of  the  forenoon,  having  climbed  more  than 
five  thousand  feet  since  leaving  Lu  Ting  Ch'iao. 
Just  before  reaching  the  top  we  descended  into  a  cup- 
like  hollow,  a  huge  dimple  lined  with  the  rich  greens 
and  gay  reds  of  the  rhododendron,  and  merry  with 
the  babble  of  many  tiny  waterfalls.  I  exclaimed  with 
delight  at  the  vision  of  beauty,  and  even  the  coolies 


146  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

grinned  appreciatively.  It  would  have  been  a  place 
to  dream  away  a  day  had  it  not  been  as  wet  as 
a  shower  bath.  Nearing  the  pass,  we  heard  weird 
sounds  above  us,  not  unlike  the  cries  of  rejoicing 
uttered  by  the  Ladakhis  of  Western  Tibet  when  they 
have  successfully  surmounted  a  difficult  height,  and 
I  wondered  if  I  was  to  find  the  same  custom  here. 
But  it  turned  out  to  be  the  lullaby  with  which  two 
men  were  tooling  ten  black  pigs  over  the  pass.  Again, 
a  little  way  down  on  the  other  side,  my  path  was  sud- 
denly barred  by  a  man  frantically  gesticulating.  I 
thought  at  first  that  he  was  mad,  but  it  was  merely 
that  he  feared  Jack  would  attack  a  flock  of  geese 
that  he  was  driving  in  the  wake  of  the  pigs,  and  when 
I  picked  the  dog  up,  the  man  prostrated  himself  at 
my  feet  in  gratitude. 

We  ought  to  have  had  a  fine  view  from  the  pass 
over  the  trackless  mountain  tangle  to  the  north,  some 
of  the  peaks  towering  almost  eighteen  thousand  feet 
into  the  sky,  but  again  the  clouds  and  mist  veiled 
everything  from  sight.  All  the  rest  of  the  day  we 
were  making  our  way  down  the  steep  east  side,  pick- 
ing our  steps  laboriously  along  the  wet  rocky  trail. 
Our  path  led  through  a  precipitous  narrow  gorge,  its 
walls  draped  with  wonderful  vegetation,  and  as  we 
descended  it,  it  grew  wetter  and  greener,  and  the 
thousand  little  brooks  leaping  down  the  sides  of  the 
ravine  rapidly  swelled  the  main  stream  to  an  im- 


THE  LESSER  TRAIL  147 

passable  torrent.  Now  we  crouched  under  overhang- 
ing ledges,  now  we  slipped  and  sprawled  down  a 
rough  rock  staircase,  constantly  crossing  the  stream 
from  side  to  side  on  planks  placed  from  boulder  to 
boulder,  or  on  slippery  logs  with  insecure  handrails 
or  none  at  all.  I  found  the  descent  far  more  tiring 
than  the  climb  on  the  other  side.  The  soldier  and  the 
gallant  coolie  fortunately  kept  always  with  me,  one 
in  front  and  one  behind,  and  I  was  often  glad  of  a 
helping  hand.  At  one  time  the  path  led  straight  into 
the  torrent,  but  while  I  was  wondering  as  to  the  depth 
of  the  water  and  the  strength  of  the  current,  the 
coolie,  hastily  depositing  his  load,  motioned  to  me 
to  get  on  his  back,  and  the  sturdy  fellow  carried  me 
safely  around  the  projecting  cliff.  Still  another  time 
we  were  forced  to  take  to  the  river,  and  as  I  could 
get  no  wetter  than  I  was,  I  proposed  to  wade  in,  but 
again  the  man  was  at  hand,  insisting  that  I  should 
ride,  and  the  strength  and  agility  with  which  he 
made  his  way  over  the  slippery  rocks,  the  swirling 
water  rising  above  his  knees,  were  really  wonderful  ; 
but  then  my  weight  was  less  than  one  hundred  and 
thirty  pounds,  while  the  ordinary  load  of  the  tea- 
carrier  is  two  hundred.  At  our  heels  came  the  soldier 
carrying  Jack,  whose  short  legs  could  hardly  have 
made  headway  against  the  strong  current  forcing 
him  out  into  midstream. 

About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  we  forerunners 


i48  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

of  the  caravan  reached  Chang-ho-pa,  the  night's 
stop.  The  whole  village  turned  out  to  greet  us,  and 
their  interest  was  not  to  be  wondered  at,  as  few  Eu- 
ropeans and  perhaps  no  European  woman  had  ever 
before  come  this  way.  The  interpreter  did  not  arrive 
until  two  hours  later,  and  what  stories  my  two  com- 
panions made  up  about  me  to  satisfy  the  curiosity  of 
the  villagers,  I  can  only  imagine.  As  a  rule,  one 
stands  to  lose  nothing  in  the  mouths  of  one's  follow- 
ers in  the  East.  Whatever  reflected  glory  they  may 
earn  by  exalting  their  masters  is  generally  theirs. 
Years  afterward  I  learned  that  on  a  journey  I  once 
made  in  Kashmir  and  Baltistan  I  travelled  in  the 
guise  of  King  Edward's  sister.  How  much  I  profited 
by  the  dignity  thus  thrust  upon  me  I  do  not  know, 
but  I  have  often  thought  that  my  servants  must 
have  been  hard  put  to  it  sometimes  to  account  for 
the  simplicity  of  my  outfit. 

The  rest  of  the  caravan  straggled  in  toward  the 
end  of  the  afternoon,  wet  and  tired,  but  all  in  good 
spirits  over  the  successful  day,  no  loads  drenched,  no 
one  hurt.  The  great  room  of  the  rough  little  inn  was 
noisy  and  gay  with  the  men  drying  their  clothes  and 
cooking  their  dinner,  the  centre  of  an  interested 
throng  of  village  folk.  I  sat  among  them  on  a  low 
bench  by  the  fire,  watching  the  fun.  Every  one  was 
heedful  of  my  comfort,  poking  the  fire,  bringing  a  fan 
to  screen  my  face  from  the  heat,  drying  my  shoes, 


THE  LESSER  TRAIL  149 

rubbing  Jack.  The  thoughtfulness  and  good  will  of 
my  men  during  all  the  journey  were  unfailing,  and  I 
never  found  that  friendliness  on  my  part  diminished 
in  any  way  my  authority  over  them. 

After  dinner  the  chair-bearers  gathered  round  and 
with  the  aid  of  the  interpreter  I  took  down  as  best  I 
could  some  of  their  calls  and  responses,  a  sort  of 
antiphonal  chorus  handed  down  from  generation  to 
generation  of  coolies.  Thus  the  men  in  front  cry, 
"  Lao  di ! "  —  "  Something  in  the  road  1 "  —  and  those 
behind  call  back,  "Ti  chi  1 "  — • " Lift  higher!"  or 
maybe  it  is  "  Chiao  kao  I" —  "  Something  overhead  !" 
— and  then  the  answer  comes,  " Keo  yao ! "  —  "Stoop 
lower ! "  When  the  way  is  very  uneven,  you  hear 
"Leopuh  ping!"  — "The  road  is  not  level !"— to 
which  is  replied,  "Mon  tien  hsin!"  —  "There  are 
stones  like  stars  ! "  —  followed  by  "  Tien  shan  hsin 
To!"  — "Many  stars  in  the  sky!"  — with  the  re- 
sponse, "  Ti  hsia  ken  to  !  "  —  "  Many  holes  in  the 
ground."  Or  perhaps  at  a  bridge,  "  Hsio  mo  Ian 
chao  ! "  — "  Bridge  bad,  building  for  a  thousand 
years!"  —  to  which  comes  the  proverbial  answer, 
"  Chien  mien  wan  lao  !  "  —  "  Must  last  for  ten  thou- 
sand." When  there  is  a  steep  bit,  one  calls  out, 
"  Deo  shan  deo !  "  —  "  Steeper  and  steeper  !  "  and 
the  others  retort,  "  Kuan  shan  kuan  !  "  —  literally, 
"Official  upon  official,"  but  the  meaning  is  plain, 
"  As  steep  as  the  ladder  of  promotion."  In  the  vil- 


150  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

lages  one  hears  constantly,  "  Yu  ti  kou  yao ! "  — 
(<  There  is  a  dog  on  the  road,"  —  with  the  response, 
"  Han  lao-pan  lai  chi  tao  !  "  —  "  Call  the  owner  to 
chain  it"  ;  or  else,  "  Tso  shou  wahwah  keo !  "  —  "A 
child  on  the  left  hand,"  — and  then  comes  the  answer, 
"  Han  ta  ma  lah  pao !  "  —  "  Call  his  mother  to  tend 
him."  i 

Every  hundred  yards  or  so  on  the  road  comes  the 
cry,  "  Fan  keo ! "  —  "  Change  shoulders ! " — followed 
by  a  momentary  stop  to  shift  the  pole.  And  you 
always  cross  a  town  to  the  tune  of  "  Pei-a,  pei-a, 
pei-a !  "  —  "  Mind  your  back,  mind  your  back,  mind 
your  back!"  And  if  a  man  does  not  mind,  he  is 
likely  to  get  a  poke  in  the  back  from  the  chair  pole. 

The  next  day's  journey  was  much  the  same  thing 
as  the  preceding.  We  started  in  the  grey  morning, 
and  I  and  my  two  companions  of  the  day  before 
had  soon  distanced  the  others.  At  first  the  trail  was 
rough  and  slippery,  and  all  ups  and  downs.  The 
vegetation  was  of  almost  tropical  density,  and  the 
moisture  underfoot  and  overhead  was  so  great  that 
it  seemed  to  me  I  had  never  been  wetter  except  in  a 
bathtub.  As  we  descended  to  lower  levels  the  valley 
broadened  out,  and  the  going  improved  so  that  we 

1  An  apology  is  due  to  those  wise  in  Chinese  for  the  blunders 
that  must  be  found  in  this  attempt  by  an  American  who  knows  no 
word  of  the  vernacular  and  a  Kiangsi  man  having  a  limited  com- 
mand of  English  to  catch  and  translate  the  "dirt  talk"  of  Sze- 
chuan  coolies. 


THE   LESSER  TRAIL  151 

were  able  to  make  very  good  time.  At  one  point, 
after  passing  through  a  little  hamlet,  —  we  came  out 
oil  a  high  bluff  overlooking  a  good-sized  stream 
flowing  in  from  the  south.  Fifty  feet  below  roared 
the  river,  spanned  at  this  place  by  a  suspension 
bridge  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  long,  constructed  of 
three  iron  cables  held  together  by  cross-chains  at 
regular  intervals.  The  footway  was  merely  a  single 
row  of  boards  not  more  than  twelve  inches  wide,  and 
there  was  no  handrail  at  all.  The  soldier  at  my  side 
waved  his  hand  significantly  up  and  down.  I  under- 
stood quite  too  well,  and  was  shaking  in  my  shoes 
at  the  thought  of  walking  that  narrow,  unsteady 
plank,  when  I  espied  my  knightly  coolie,  who,  having 
deposited  his  load  on  the  opposite  bank,  was  hurry- 
ing back  to  my  assistance.  Gripping  Jack,  who  was 
as  frightened  as  I,  under  one  arm,  I  seized  the  man's 
hand,  and  slowly  we  inched  across  to  safety.  There 
we  joined  the  people  of  a  near-by  hamlet,  who  ap- 
parently found  their  pastime  in  watching  the  traffic 
across  the  bridge,  perhaps  waiting  for  a  chance  to 
earn  a  few  cash  by  carrying  the  loads  of  the  less 
sure-footed  coolies.  My  chair-men  came  over  tri- 
umphantly, and  Mercury  almost  ran  with  his  baskets, 
but  the  interpreter  was  glad  of  the  fu  t'ou's  aid,  and 
two  of  the  coolies  balked,  but  were  helped  out  by 
some  of  the  others. 

Later  in  the  day  we  left  the  river,  and  crossing  a 


152  A  WAYFARER  IN  CHINA 

head  ridge  or  pass  affording  beautiful  views  to  the 
south,  came  out  after  a  time  in  the  same  valley,  but 
now  wider  and  more  open.  Though  the  mountains 
still  towered  to  left  and  right,  we  were  getting  down 
to  lower  levels,  and  the  change  was  marked  in  the 
palms,  bamboos,  and  peach  trees  that  began  to  ap- 
pear. But  the  villages  were  nothing  more  than  ham- 
lets, and  the  outlook  for  dinner  at  the  first  stopping- 
place  was  so  poor  that  I,  now  riding  in  my  chair, 
decided  to  go  on  to  the  next  settlement ;  but  here 
conditions  were  even  worse,  the  only  inn  being  dis- 
mantled and  abandoned.  Although  it  was  getting 
late  and  the  others  were  far  behind,  there  was  nothing 
left  but  to  travel  on.  Our  last  hope  for  the  night 
proved  to  be  a  group  of  four  houses  only  with  few 
supplies,  but  the  people  bade  us  welcome  and  did 
their  best  to  make  us  comfortable.  Fires  were  lighted 
and  clothes  were  soon  drying  and  rice  a-boiling. 
After  the  arrival  of  the  interpreter  I  learned  that  we 
had  been  taken  for  missionaries,  and  that  it  was  ex- 
pected we  would  hold  a  service. 

The  scenery  grew  even  more  beautiful  as  we  de- 
scended the  valley  the  next  day.  Our  trail  led  through 
fine  groves  high  on  the  hillside,  while  below  us  the 
river,  now  big  enough  to  have  a  name,  the  Ya,  turned 
and  twisted  in  splendid  green  swirls.  Seen  from  a  dis- 
tance the  villages  were  very  attractive,  built  usually 
of  wood,  their  thatched  roofs  just  putting  forth  green 


A   ROADSIDE   TEA-HOUSE 


TEA-COOLIE    CROSSING    A    SUSPENSION   BRIDGE 
His  load  weighed  about  160  Ibs 


THE  LESSER  TRAIL  153 

shoots.  A  new  feature  in  the  landscape  were  tall  spruce 
trees,  reminding  me  in  their  outlines  of  the  rock  pines 
of  Italy.  As  the  road  was  now  good,  it  was  possible 
for  me  to  ride  in  my  chair  once  more,  for  which  I  was 
glad,  as  the  hard  climbs  and  still  more  wearying 
descents  of  the  last  three  days  had  made  me  rather 
stale.  The  people  along  the  way  were  much  interested 
in  me  and  still  more  in  Jack,  but  it  was  the  naive 
curiosity  of  a  simple  folk,  and  I  did  not  find  it  irk- 
some like  the  hard  stare  of  the  townspeople.  At  one 
place  where  we  halted  for  tiffin,  a  lame  man  with  an 
interesting  face  attached  himself  to  us,  and  presently 
I  found  myself  and  my  belongings  the  subject  of  an 
explanatory  talk  he  was  giving  the  bystanders.  He 
told  them  how  I  kept  my  eyeglasses  on,  expatiated 
on  the  advantages  of  my  shoes,  indicated  the  good 
points  of  my  chair,  the  like  of  which  had  never  been 
seen  before  in  these  parts,  and  finally  expounded  at 
length  the  character  of  my  dog.  If  I  wished  him  to 
be  bad  he  would  bite,  but  since  I  was  kind  I  would 
desire  him  to  be  good,  and  he  would  be  good.  To  il- 
lustrate, he  patted  Jack's  head  rather  gingerly.  Fortu- 
nately the  dog  appreciated  pats  from  any  quarter,  so 
our  characters  did  not  suffer. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  day  we  were  nearing  Tien- 
chiian-chou,  the  one  largeish  town  on  this  road.  The 
approach  was  one  of  the  finest  things  I  have  ever 
seen.  We  were  now  well  down,  having  descended 


154  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

seven  thousand  feet  since  crossing  Ma-an-Shan. 
Everywhere  there  was  careful  cultivation,  the  nearer 
hills  being  terraced  to  the  top,  and  the  well-paved  trail 
traversed  long  stretches  of  rice-fields  just  beginning 
to  show  green  above  the  mud.  Here  and  there  a 
group  of  farm  buildings  stood  on  little  knolls  above 
the  surrounding  marsh,  each  in  a  charming  setting  of 
trees.  Do  trees  anywhere  group  themselves  as  pic- 
turesquely as  in  China?  Unsympathetic  people  tell 
me  that  no  Chinese  ever  plant  trees  save  for  severely 
utilitarian  purposes.  I  am  in  no  position  to  contra- 
dict the  verdict  of  these  overpowering  persons,  the 
old  residents  (fortunately  they  sometimes  contradict 
each  other) ;  and  yet  why  is  it  that  most  temples  are 
set  in  fine  groves,  put  to  no  purpose  that  I  can  see 
save  to  satisfy  a  sense  of  the  beautiful,  or  why  are  so 
many  Chinese  towns,  looked  at  from  a  height,  bow- 
ers of  green  beauty,  the  trees  serving  neither  for  fuel 
nor  for  food  ?  The  truth  is,  it  seems  to  me,  that  the 
needs  of  life  press  so  hard  on  the  Chinese  that  they 
are  forced  to  look  at  things  from  a  utilitarian  point 
of  view,  but  given  the  least  chance  and  their  appre- 
ciation of  the  beautiful  shows  itself. 

Near  the  town  we  struck  down  to  a  good  iron  sus- 
pension bridge  over  the  Ya,  which  here  runs  with  a 
tremendous  current,  broken  by  curious  reefs  thrust- 
ing out  into  the  stream  some  twenty  or  thirty  feet  and 
at  right  angles  to  the  bank.  Beyond  the  bridge  we 


THE   LESSER  TRAIL  155 

came  in  sight  of  the  town,  its  staring  red  walls  draped 
with  green  creepers.  Entering  through  a  fine  stone 
gateway,  we  found  ourselves  in  the  single  street, 
broad,  well  paved,  and  wonderfully  clean.  The  in- 
habitants were  apparently  well  used  to  foreigners, 
which  is  natural,  as  Ya-chou  with  its  Roman  Catholic 
and  Protestant  missions  is  only  twenty  miles  away. 

The  country  through  which  we  passed  the  next 
day  was  very  varied,  and  always  beautiful.  On  leav- 
ing the  town  the  path  led  along  a  low  ridge  given 
over  to  graves.  Living  and  dead  dwell  side  by  side  in 
China,  and  often  it  seems  as  though  the  rights  of  the 
one  were  sacrificed  to  the  claims  of  the  other.  The 
Chinese  saying,  "  For  every  man  that  Heaven  creates, 
Earth  provides  a  grave,"  takes  on  a  new  significance 
as  one  looks  over  the  land,  the  dead  are  so  many,  the 
living  so  hard  put  to  live.  This  was  not  an  unattrac- 
tive place,  for  the  mounds  of  earth  and  stone  were 
overgrown  with  grass  and  ferns,  while  many  were 
decorated  with  a  tuft  of  bamboo  or  a  bush  of  wild 
roses.  The  free  use  of  stone  in  this  district  was  very 
striking ;  pavements,  often  in  good  condition,  were 
general,  the  irrigating  ditches  were  bridged  by  a 
single  slab  of  the  red  sandstone  of  Szechuan,  perhaps 
ten  feet  in  length,  while  at  every  turn  there  were 
charming  little  stone  shrines  in  place  of  the  shabby 
wooden  ones  found  farther  south. 

After  a  bit  we  turned  away  from  the  plain  and  river 


156  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

and  entered  a  more  broken  country,  hills  and  valleys, 
ridges  and  dells,  rushing  brooks  between  banks  of 
ferns,  little  tumbling  cascades  over  mossy  stones, 
groups  and  avenues  of  fine  trees,  picturesque  stone 
bridges,  everywhere  painstaking  tillage  and  ingeni- 
ous irrigation.  It  was  all  charming,  with  the  artificial 
beauty  of  a  carefully  ordered  park.  Resting  in  my 
chair  in  front  of  a  tea-house  where  the  coolies  were 
refreshing  themselves,  I  noticed  my  knight  of  the 
bridges  suddenly  throw  himself  on  the  ground  before 
the  interpreter,  crying  out  something  in  beseeching 
tones,  while  the  other  coolies  standing  about  laughed 
unsympathetically.  The  poor  man  was  urging  the 
interpreter  to  ask  that  I  give  him  back  his  soul,  of 
which  apparently  I  had  deprived  him  when  I  took 
his  picture  an  hour  back.  Without  his  soul  he  would 
die,  and  then  what  would  his  mother,  a  widow,  do  ? 
After  some  talk  he  was  consoled,  the  other  men  as- 
suring him  that  they  had  been  photographed  over 
and  over  again  without  suffering  harm.  If  only  I 
had  known  at  the  time,  I  could  have  consoled  him 
with  the  information  that  there  was  no  picture.  Pho- 
tographing in  cloudy  Szechuan  has  many  drawbacks, 
and  I  was  ready  to  bark  with  the  proverbial  dog  of 
the  province  when  I  saw  the  sun.  The  feeling  of  the 
Chinese  toward  the  camera  seems  to  vary.  Children 
were  sometimes  afraid.  One  boy  old  enough  to  carry 
a  heavy  load,  having  been  induced  by  the  promise  of 


THE   LESSER  TRAIL  157 

a  reward  to  stand  still,  burst  into  tears  just  as  I  was 
about  to  snap  him,  and  I  had  to  send  him  off  trium- 
phant over  his  bits  of  cash,  while  I  was  left  picture- 
less.  Some,  too,  of  the  older  people  made  objection, 
while  on  the  other  hand  I  was  occasionally  asked  to 
take  a  picture. 

Toward  noon  we  found  ourselves  again  in  the  val- 
ley of  the  Ya,  sometimes  following  a  well-paved  trail 
above  the  river,  the  ups  and  downs  carefully  terraced 
in  broad  stone  steps,  occasionally  threading  our  way 
among  the  huge  rush  mats  with  which  the  village 
streets  were  carpeted.  The  harvesting  of  the  millet 
and  barley  crops  was  over,  and  the  sheaves  had  been 
brought  into  the  village  to  dry  and  were  spread  out 
in  the  only  level  space  available,  the  highway.  Men 
walked  over  the  sheaves,  children  and  dogs  romped 
among  them,  and  no  one  said  them  nay.  Twice  we 
were  ferried  across  the  river,  and  finally  a  short  run 
over  the  low,  wide  reefs  that  here  narrow  the  chan- 
nel brought  us  to  Ya-chou  and  to  the  end  of  the 
Lesser  Trail.  We  had  made  the  trip  without  any  of 
the  prophesied  mishaps,  and  for  me  it  was  far  more 
comfortable  and  more  interesting  than  following  the 
main  track.  To  be  sure,  we  took  five  days  to  it,  but 
it  would  not  have  been  difficult  to  have  saved  a  day, 
only  there  was  no  object  in  doing  it,  for  a  wait  at 
Ya-chou  was  inevitable  that  the  ma-fu  and  pony 
might  catch  us  up  there. 


158  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

My  enforced  stay  of  one  day  in  Ya-chou  gave  me 
a  chance  to  see  something  of  the  town.  I  had  the 
good  fortune  to  be  entertained  by  members  of  the 
American  Baptist  Mission,  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Shields,  and 
there  as  elsewhere  I  found  the  missionaries  most 
helpful  in  giving  the  traveller  an  insight  into  local 
conditions.  There  is  one  limitation  to  this,  however, 
in  the  gulf  which  seems  fixed  between  Protestants 
and  Roman  Catholics  in  the  East,  cutting  off  the 
chance  of  learning  what  the  latter  are  doing ;  and 
when  one  bears  in  mind  that  Rome  has  had  her 
missionaries  in  China  for  three  hundred  years  and 
numbers  her  converts  by  millions,  one  would  like  to 
know  more  of  the  work  done. 

But  there  is  no  doubt  as  to  the  reality  of  Protes- 
tant achievement.  In  Ya-chou  the  relations  of  mis- 
sionaries and  townspeople  seemed  very  cordial  and 
natural.  Medical  work  is  being  carried  on,  and  a 
hospital  was  shortly  to  be  opened.  But  more  valu- 
able, perhaps,  than  any  formal  work  may  be  the 
results  from  the  mere  presence  in  the  town  of  Chris- 
tian men  and  women  living  lives  of  high  purpose  and 
kindly  spirit. 

If  you  listen  to  the  talk  of  the  treaty  ports  you  will 
hear  much  criticism  of  missionaries  and  their  work, 
and  since  they  are  human  it  is  reasonable  to  suspect 
that  they  sometimes  make  mistakes;  but  after  all 
they  are  the  only  Europeans  in  China  who  are  not 


THE  LESSER  TRAIL  159 

there  for  their  own  personal  interests,  and  the  people 
are  quite  shrewd  enough  to  see  this.  In  spite  of  dif- 
ferences of  views  the  Chinese  who  knows  the  mis- 
sionary at  all  generally  respects  him.  A  Chinese 
gentleman  in  no  way  friendly  to  missions,  speaking 
of  the  good  relations  that  existed  between  Europeans 
and  Chinese  in  Nanking,  declared  it  was  all  because 
the  missionaries  came  first.  And  Dr.  Soothill  tells  the 
story  of  an  Englishman  who  applauded  the  harsh 
criticism  of  mission  work  by  a  Chinese  river  captain, 
and  met  the  retort,  "  That 's  all  well  enough,  but  if  it 
were  not  for  the  missionaries  we  should  not  know 
there  were  any  good  men  in  your  country." 

The  prefectural  city  of  Ya-chou  is  the  centre  of  a 
great  tea-growing  district,  while  in  the  town  itself  are 
large  establishments  where  the  article  is  made  up  for 
the  Tibetan  trade.  The  Szechuan  tea  for  the  most 
part  does  not  rank  very  high,  little  being  exported 
from  the  province  save  to  Tibet,  and  for  that  market 
even  the  poorest  is  reckoned  too  good,  as  the  so- 
called  tea  carried  by  the  thousands  of  coolies  whom 
we  met  bound  for  Tachienlu  is  everything  save  gen- 
uine tea  leaves,  being  a  mixture  of  which  the  leaves 
and  twigs  of  scrub  oak  and  other  trees  form  the  larg- 
est part.  The  Ya-chou  tea,  when  gathered  and  dried, 
is  bought  up  and  brought  into  the  towns  to  be  made 
into  the  brick  tea  of  Tibetan  commerce.  The  prepar- 
ation consists  in  chopping  fine  the  tea  and  adulterat- 


160  A  WAYFARER  IN  CHINA 

ing  leaves  and  twigs.  After  adding  a  little  rice-water 
the  whole  is  packed  in  cylinders  of  bamboo  matting, 
each  package  weighing  from  sixteen  to  eighteen  cat- 
ties. It  is  estimated  that  the  cost  to  the  manufacturers, 
exclusive  of  packing,  is  about  thirty-two  cash  a  catty, 
somewhat  less  than  a  cent  and  a  half  gold  the  pound. 
By  the  time  the  tea  has  reached  Tachienlu  it  is  sold 
at  about  five  and  a  half  cents  a  pound.  At  Batang 
the  price  is  doubled,  and  at  Lhasa  quadrupled.  Thus 
the  stuff  bought  as  tea  by  the  Tibetans  can  scarcely 
be  called  cheap,  and  yet  they  consume  great  quan- 
tities of  it.  To  them  it  is  not  a  luxury,  but  a  real 
necessity. 


CHAPTER^VIII 

ACROSS  CHENGTU  PLAIN 

THOROUGHLY  set  up  by  the  day's  rest  in  Ya- 
chou,  my  men  were  on  hand  at  five  o'clock  on 
the  morning  of  May  24,  in  good  spirits  for  the  rest 
of  the  trip.  Even  the  ma-fu,  whom  we  had  left  behind 
at  Hua-lin-ping,  turned  up  with  the  coolie  and  pony 
sent  round  from  Lu  Ting. 

Two  missionaries  going  down  the  river  to  Chia- 
ting,  at  the  junction  of  the  Min  and  the  Ta  Tu  in- 
vited me  to  take  a  turn  at  rafting,  and  I  was  glad  to 
go  with  them  for  a  few  li.  The  Ya  Ho  joins  the  Ta 
Tu  just  west  of  Chia-ting,  the  fall  from  Ya-chou 
being  about  six  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  a  distance  of 
ninety  miles.  So  swift  is  the  current  and  so  tortuous 
and  rocky  the  bed  of  the  stream  that  the  only  navi- 
gation possible  is  by  means  of  bamboo  rafts  fifty  or 
sixty  feet  long,  with  a  curled  prow.  Amidships  is  a 
small  platform  partly  roofed  over  with  matting.  In 
spite  of  the  rapids,  which  at  times  make  the  trip 
vastly  exciting,  there  is  no  danger  save  the  certainty 
of  getting  wet.  The  scenery  on  either  hand  is  very 
beautiful ;  the  great  mountains  recede  in  the  distance, 
fading  out  in  the  soft  light,  but  the  fine  red  sandstone 
cliffs,  alternating  with  the  brilliant  green  of  bamboo 


162  A  WAYFARER   IN   CHINA 

groves  and   rice-fields  on  the  lowland,  afforded  a 
charming  picture  at  every  turn. 

My  men  were  waiting  for  me  at  the  appointed 
place,  and  ten  minutes'  precarious  scrambling  along 
the  narrow  dykes  between  the  fields  brought  me  to 
the  great  highway  leading  to  the  capital,  four  days' 
march  away.  All  this  day  and  the  three  succeeding 
ones  we  were  travelling  through  a  district  park-  or 
garden-like  in  its  exquisite  artificial  beauty.  The 
trail,  which  was  at  first  fairly  good,  ran  now  along 
the  top  of  an  embankment  some  six  feet  broad  con- 
structed across  the  swimming  paddy  fields,  then 
dropped  into  a  little  valley  shaded  with  fine  "namti" 
trees,  and  again  it  wound  along  a  low  ridge.  Far  off 
against  the  western  horizon  stretched  the  splendid 
snow-line  of  the  Tibetan  range  from  which  I  had  just 
come,  but  now  more  than  a  hundred  miles  away. 
Every  inch  of  land  that  could  be  irrigated  was  under 
cultivation,  save  where  a  substantial  looking  farm- 
house set  in  groves  of  fine  trees,  bamboos,  cypress, 
and  namti,  occupied  a  little  knoll  laboriously  built  up 
above  the  encircling  marsh.  Last  year  their  crumbling 
walls  testified  to  the  security  of  the  country,  but  I 
wonder  what  has  been  the  fate  of  these  solitary  houses 
in  the  recent  months  of  lawlessness.  Toward  the  end 
of  the  day  a  soft  mist  settled  down  upon  the  earth, 
outlining  the  nearer  hills  and  throwing  up  against 
the  sky  the  distant  peaks. 


ACROSS  CHENGTU   PLAIN  163 

We  had  tiffin  at  the  little  town  of  Ming  Shan-hsien. 
About  five  miles  west  of  here  rises  from  the  plain  the 
Ming  Shan,  a  small  mountain  famous  throughout 
China  for  its  tea,  which  is  grown  by  the  priests  of  a 
Buddhist  temple  on  the  summit.  According  to  tra- 
dition the  seeds  from  which  this  tea  is  produced  were 
brought  centuries  ago  from  India  by  a  Chinese  pil- 
grim. Only  a  few  pounds  are  gathered  annually  and 
these  are  always  sent  as  tribute  to  Peking  for  the  use 
of  the  imperial  household.  To  whom  will  they  now 
fall  ?  There  is  a  saying  current  in  China  that  to  make 
a  first-rate  cup  of  tea  you  must  take  "  leaves  from  the 
Ming  Shan  and  water  from  the  Yangtse."  No  one 
believes  for  a  moment  that  the  turbid  water  of  the 
Great  River  is  meant  here,  and  yet  no  one  could  ex- 
plain what  it  did  mean.  But  De  Rosthorn,  in  his 
interesting  pamphlet  on  "Tea  Cultivation  in  Sze- 
chuan,"  gives  what  seems  to  him  the  true  explanation. 
Crossing  the  bay  at  Chen-kiang  he  saw  men  in  boats 
filling  buckets  with  water.  Asking  what  they  were 
doing,  he  was  told  that  there  was  a  famous  spring  at 
the  bottom  of  the  river  well  known  from  the  time 
when  the  river  bed  was  dry  land.  Here,  then,  was  the 
Yangtse  water  which,  combined  with  leaves  brought 
from  Ming  Shan  two  thousand  miles  away,  made  the 
best  tea  in  the  world. 

We  stopped  for  the  night  at  the  village  of  Pai- 
chang,  where  I  spent  a  tiresome  evening  trying  to 


164  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

arrange  for  a  pony  to  take  the  place  of  mine,  left 
behind  at  Ya-chou,  as  he  seemed  in  need  of  a  longer 
rest.  The  weather  was  now  too  hot  for  walking,  but 
all  day  in  the  chair  was  unendurable,  so  I  hoped  here 
to  hire  a  pony  for  half  a  stage.  I  refused  to  engage 
one  without  seeing  its  back,  but  nothing  appeared  to 
be  inspected,  why,  I  could  not  tell.  The  shifts  and 
turns  of  the  oriental  mind  are  not  our  shifts  and  turns, 
so  I  finally  gave  up  trying  to  find  out,  and  went  to 
bed,  telling  the  fu  t'ou  he  must  have  something  ready 
in  the  morning,  only  if  its  back  was  sore  I  would  not 
take  it.  But  morning  came  and  no  pony.  I  was  told 
it  was  waiting  for  me  outside  the  town,  and  there  it 
was,  sure  enough.  Ordering  off  saddle  and  blanket  I 
inspected  its  back  to  make  certain  that  all  was  right, 
as  it  was.  But  the  strange  ma-fu  seemed  quite  over- 
come with  consternation  at  the  sight  of  me,  while  the 
fu  t'ou  collapsed  on  a  stone  wall  near  by,  doubled  up 
with  laughter.  At  last  an  explanation  was  made. 
When  the  fu  t'ou  tried  to  get  a  pony  for  me  from  the 
pony  hong  he  was  met  by  a  refusal.  No  foreigner 
should  ride  one  of  their  horses ;  they  had  let  one  to  a 
foreign  gentleman  not  long  before,  and  he  had  abused 
it  and  gone  so  fast  that  the  ma-fu  could  not  keep  up, 
and  nearly  lost  the  pony  ;  nor  were  they  to  be  moved. 
Anyway,  the  fu  t'ou  told  them,  he  must  have  one 
himself.  When  it  was  brought  to  the  inn  at  dawn  he 
mounted  and  rode  outside  the  town.  There,  finding 


ACROSS  CHENGTU   PLAIN  165 

he  had  forgotten  something, —  me, —  he  went  back  for 
it,  while  pony  and  ma-fu  waited.  In  true  Chinese  fash- 
ion the  ma-fu  accepted  the  inevitable  and  walked 
quietly  at  my  side,  but  he  had  an  anxious  expression 
at  first,  as  though  he  expected  me  at  any  moment  to 
whip  up  my  steed  and  vanish.  I  am  not  wise  in 
horseflesh,  but  at  least  I  try  to  be  merciful  to  my 
beasts.  When  I  got  off,  as  I  did  now  and  then,  to 
save  the  horse  over  a  particularly  bad  place,  the  man 
began  to  cheer  up,  and  finally  when,  according  to 
my  custom,  I  took  the  pony  outside  the  village  to 
graze  a  bit  while  the  men  had  their  breakfast, — a 
very  unsuitable  proceeding,  I  was  later  told,  —  his 
surprise  broke  forth.  "  What  sort  of  a  foreign  woman 
was  this  ?  "  At  noon  I  sent  the  pony  back,  paying  for 
the  half  day  one  hundred  and  forty  cash,  about  seven 
cents  gold. 

Just  before  reaching  Cheung-chou,  where  we  were 
to  spend  the  night,  we  crossed  the  Nan  Ho  by  a  fine 
stone  bridge  of  fifteen  arches.  The  Nan  is  one  of  the 
lesser  waterways  of  West  China  connecting  this  cor- 
ner of  Szechuan  with  the  Great  River,  and  many 
cumbersome  boats  laden  with  produce  were  slipping 
down  with  the  rapid  current  on  their  way  eastwards. 

I  entered  the  gate  of  the  town  with  some  doubt  as 
to  my  reception.  Baron  von  Richthofen,  who  passed 
through  here  a  generation  ago,  wrote  of  the  place : 
"  All  the  men  are  armed  with  long  knives  and  use 


166  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

them  frequently  in  their  rows.  I  have  passed  few 
cities  in  China  in  which  I  have  suffered  so  much  mo- 
lestation from  the  people  as  I  did  there ;  and  travel- 
lers should  avoid  making  night  quarters  there  as  it 
was  my  lot  to  do."  Time  enough  has  elapsed  since 
the  good  baron  went  this  way  to  have  changed  all 
that,  but  the  missionaries  at  Ya-chou  had  also  cau- 
tioned me  against  the  temper  of  the  people,  relating 
some  unpleasant  experiences  of  recent  date.  They 
had  kindly  given  me  a  note  of  introduction  to  two 
missionaries  who  had  their  headquarters  at  Cheung- 
chou  who  would  make  me  safe  and  comfortable  in 
their  house.  I  had  sent  this  ahead  only  to  learn  that 
the  mission  was  closed,  as  the  people  were  touring 
in  the  district ;  and  so  there  was  nothing  to  do  but 
go  to  the  inn  as  usual. 

In  the  narrow  streets  of  the  town  there  was  of 
course  the  everlasting  pushing,  staring  crowd,  but  I 
saw  no  signs  of  unfriendliness,  and  Jack's  gay  yaps 
in  response  to  pointing  fingers  and  cries  of  "  K'an 
yang  kou !  k'an  yang  kou ! "  ("  Look  at  the  foreign 
dog !  look  at  the  foreign  dog !")  brought  the  invari- 
able grins  of  delight.  Later  in  the  day,  wearying  of 
the  confinement  of  the  inn,  and  not  unwilling  to  test 
the  temper  of  the  people  a  bit,  I  went  marketing 
with  the  cook.  Of  course  a  crowd  of  men  and  boys 
dogged  my  steps,  but  it  was  a  good-natured  crowd, 
making  way  for  me  courteously,  and  when  they  found 


ACROSS  CHENGTU   PLAIN  167 

that  I  was  looking  for  apricots  they  fairly  tumbled 
over  each  other  in  their  eagerness  to  show  us  the  best 
shop. 

Cheung-chou  lies  on  the  southwestern  edge  of  the 
great  plain  of  Chengtu,  which,  although  only  some 
ninety  miles  long  by  seventy  miles  wide,  supports  a 
population  of  four  millions,  so  kindly  is  the  climate, 
so  fertile  the  soil,  and  so  abundant  the  water  supply. 
Two  of  these  blessings  are  the  gift  of  nature,  but  the 
last  is  owed  to  the  ingenuity  of  Li  Ping  and  his 
nameless  son,  known  only  as  the  "  Second  Gentle- 
man," two  Chinese  officials  who  worked  and  achieved 
and  died  more  than  two  thousand  years  ago.  At 
Kwan-hsien  there  is  a  temple,  perhaps  the  most  beau- 
tiful in  China,  erected  in  their  memory,  but  their 
truest  monument  is  this  beautiful  plain,  blossoming 
like  a  Garden  of  Eden  under  the  irrigation  system 
which  they  devised,  and  which  will  endure  so  long 
as  men  obey  their  parting  command  engraved  on  a 
stone  in  the  temple,  "  Dig  the  channels  deep ;  keep 
the  banks  low." 

The  people  of  the  plain  were  as  friendly  as  the 
mountain  folk  I  had  been  travelling  amongst,  but 
they  displayed  less  of  the  naive  curiosity  of  the  out- 
of-the-way  places.  Evidently  the  foreigner  was  no 
novelty,  nor  the  camera  either.  At  one  village  I 
stopped  to  photograph  a  fine  pailou,  not  to  the  "  vir- 
tuous official "  this  time,  but  to  the  "  virtuous  widow." 


168  A  WAYFARER   IN   CHINA 

A  little  group  of  villagers  gathered  to  watch,  and 
would  not  be  satisfied  until  I  had  taken  a  picture  of 
another  local  monument,  a  beautiful  three-storied 
stone  pagoda  rising  tall  and  slender  above  the  flat 
rice  land.  These  picturesque  structures  add  much  to 
the  charm  of  the  level  plain  which  tends  to  become 
monotonous  after  a  while.  As  far  as  one  can  see 
stretches  the  paddy  land  in  every  stage  of  develop- 
ment. Some  fields  are  hardly  more  than  pools  of 
water  mirroring  the  clouds  overhead.  Others  are 
dotted  over  with  thin  clumps  of  rice  through  which  the 
ducks  swim  gaily,  while  still  others  are  solid  masses 
of  green,  and  transplanting  has  already  begun. 

Although  we  were  now  approaching  the  largest 
city  of  West  China,  and  the  capital  of  the  empire's 
richest  province,  the  roads  went  steadily  from  bad  to 
worse.  Made  with  infinite  labour  centuries  ago,  they 
had  been  left  untouched  ever  since,  and  weather  and 
wear  had  done  their  work.  For  long  stretches  the 
paving  was  quite  gone  ;  elsewhere  you  wished  it 
were.  The  people  have  their  explanation  of  these 
conditions  in  the  saying,  "  The  hills  are  high  and  the 
emperor  far."  It  remains  to  be  seen  if  that  will  hold 
good  of  the  new  government.  Certainly  nothing  will 
mean  so  much  in  the  development  of  the  country  as 
good  roads.  We  were  now  once  more  on  the  line  of 
wheeled  traffic,  and  the  wheelbarrow  was  never  out 
of  sight  or  hearing.  Enormous  loads  were  borne 


ACROSS  CHENGTU   PLAIN  169 

along  on  the  large  flat-bottomed  freight  barrow,  while 
on  every  hand  we  saw  substantial  looking  farmer 
folk,  men,  women,  and  children,  going  to  town  in  the 
same  primitive  fashion. 

To  save  the  journey  a  little  for  my  chair-men,  and 
also  for  the  fun  of  a  new  experience,  I  bargained 
with  a  barrow-man  to  carry  me  for  a  few  miles.  My 
coolies  took  it  as  a  fine  joke,  and  after  starting  me 
off  trotted  on  behind,  but  my  military  escort  looked 
troubled.  No  longer  striding  proudly  in  front,  he 
showed  a  desire  to  loiter  behind,  although  so  long  as 
my  grand  chair  kept  close  at  my  heels  he  could  save 
his  face  by  explaining  my  strange  proceeding  as  the 
mad  freak  of  a  foreigner.  But  finally,  when  I  bade 
the  chair-men  stop  for  a  smoke  at  a  rest-house,  know- 
ing they  could  easily  overtake  my  slow-moving 
vehicle,  he  too  disappeared,  and  only  took  up  his 
station  again  at  the  head  of  the  procession  when  I 
went  back  to  my  chair  after  dismissing  the  barrow 
with  a  payment  of  eighty  cash  for  a  ride  of  twenty- 
five  li.  Barrow  travelling  is  not  as  bad  as  it  seems, 
for  there  is  a  chair-back,  and  rests  for  the  feet  are 
fixed  on  either  side  of  the  wheel.  But  in  spite  of  the 
dexterity  with  which  the  coolie  trundled  me  over  the 
rough  places  and  through  the  deep  ruts,  an  upset 
into  an  unsavoury  rice-patch  seemed  unpleasantly 
possible,  and  more  than  all,  you  can  never  lose  con- 
sciousness of  the  straining  man  behind. 


i  yo  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

I  thought  the  last  stage  into  Chengtu  would  never 
end ;  the  passing  of  people  became  more  and  more 
incessant  and  tiring,  while  the  hot-house  temperature 
of  this  rich  lowland  was  most  exhausting,  and  the 
occasional  downpours  only  made  the  roads  more  im- 
passable without  cooling  the  air.  My  coolies,  coming 
from  higher  altitudes,  were  almost  used  up.  They 
stopped  often  to  rest,  and  hardly  one  was  doing  his 
own  work,  making  an  exchange  with  another  man, 
unless  he  had  given  up  entirely,  sweating  out  his 
job  to  some  one  hired  on  the  way.  So  we  straggled 
along,  a  disorderly,  spiritless  crowd,  showing  a  little 
life  only  when  Jack,  whom  nothing  daunted,  created 
a  diversion  by  chasing  the  village  dogs  along  the 
narrow  earth  balks  between  the  fields,  their  favourite 
resting-places.  Then  the  whole  party  waked  up, 
cheering  the  little  dog  on  with  gay  cries,  and  laugh- 
ing impartially  when  hunter  or  hunted  slipped  into 
the  muck  of  a  rice-patch,  while  the  toilers  by  the 
roadside  thought  we  had  all  gone  mad  until  they 
saw  what  it  was,  and  then  they  too  joined  in  with 
chuckles  of  delight.  There  is  something  quite  child- 
like in  the  way  in  which  this  old  Chinese  people  wel- 
comes any  little  break  in  the  grey  days  of  grinding 
drudgery. 

As  the  day  wore  on,  one  could  guess  that  a  great 
centre  of  government  and  trade  was  near  at  hand ; 
the  traffic  was  continuous,  —  coolies  bent  almost 


ACROSS   CHENGTU   PLAIN  171 

double  under  their  heavy  burdens,  laden  barrows 
creaking  dolefully  as  they  moved,  foot  travellers 
plodding  wearily  along,  groups  of  wild  Tibetans 
from  the  distant  frontier,  gorgeous  mandarins  re- 
turning from  an  inspection  tour,  all  were  hurrying 
towards  the  capital.  Yes,  we  were  nearing  Marco 
Polo's  "large  and  noble"  city  of  Sindin-fu  and  it 
is  to-day  again  a  "large  and  noble"  city,  only 
now  it  is  known  as  Chengtu,  and  the  days  are  not 
so  very  far  in  the  past  when  it  was  hardly  a  city 
at  all. 

Szechuan's  later  history  begins  with  the  troubled 
times  that  marked  the  fall  of  the  Ming  dynasty. 
While  the  Manchus  were  busy  establishing  them- 
selves at  Peking,  the  outlying  provinces  of  the  em- 
pire were  given  over  to  brigandage  and  civil  strife. 
Here  in  Chengtu  an  adventurer  calling  himself  the 
Emperor  of  the  West  succeeded  in  getting  the  upper 
hand  for  a  short  time,  and  when  his  end  came  there 
was  little  left  to  rule  over  save  ruins  and  dead  men, 
which  was  hardly  to  be  wondered  at,  seeing  his  idea 
of  ruling  was  to  exterminate  all  his  subjects.  Baber 
has  made  from  De  Mailla's  "  History  of  China  "  the 
following  summary  of  his  measures:  "Massacred: 
32,310  undergraduates;  3000  eunuchs;  2000  of  his 
own  troops;  27,000  Buddhist  priests;  600,000  in- 
habitants of  Chengtu ;  280  of  his  own  concubines ; 
400,000  wives  of  his  troops;  everybody  else  in  the 


172  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

province.  Destroyed ':  Every  building  in  the  province. 
Burnt :  Everything  inflammable." 

Since  that  time  Szechuan  has  been  repeopled  and 
to-day  the  capital  has  a  population  of  quite  three 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand,  although  the  walls,  that 
in  the  thirteenth  century  extended  twenty  miles,  are 
now  no  more  than  twelve  in  length  and  enclose  a 
good  deal  of  waste  land.  The  wonderful  bridges 
described  by  Marco  Polo,  half  a  mile  long  and  lined 
with  marble  pillars  supporting  the  tiled  roof,  no 
longer  exist,  but  the  city  still  abounds  in  bridges  of 
a  humbler  sort,  for  it  is  crossed  by  the  main  stream 
of  the  Min  as  well  as  by  many  smaller  branches  and 
canals,  all  alive  with  big  and  little  craft.  Chengtu  is 
proud  of  its  streets,  which  are  well  paved  and  broader 
and  cleaner  than  common,  and  on  the  whole  it  is  an 
attractive,  well-built  city. 

The  viceroy  of  the  province  has  his  seat  here,  and 
Szechuan  shares  with  the  metropolitan  province  of 
Chihli  the  honour  of  having  one  all  to  itself,  and  he  is 
more  truly  a  viceroy  than  the  others,  for  the  Mantzu 
and  Tibetan  territories  lying  to  the  west  are  admin- 
istered through  the  provincial  government  and  are 
in  a  way  tributary  to  it.  Even  from  far  Nepal  on  the 
borders  of  India  come  the  bearers  of  gifts  to  the 
representative  of  the  emperor. 

Ser  Marco  speaks  of  the  "  fine  cloth  and  crapes  and 
gauzes  "  of  Chengtu,  and  still  to-day  the  merchants 


ACROSS   CHENGTU   PLAIN  173 

unroll  at  your  feet  as  you  sit  on  your  verandah  ex- 
quisitely soft,  shimmering  silks  and  wonderful  em- 
broideries. It  was  these  last  that  caught  my  fancy, 
and  the  British  Consul-General,  himself  a  great  col- 
lector, kindly  sent  to  the  house  his  "second-best" 
man  and  then  his  "  first-best,"  and  between  the  two 
I  made  a  few  modest  purchases  at  even  more  mod- 
est prices.  Imagine  getting  two  strips  of  wonderful 
silk  embroidery  for  twenty  cents  gold,  or  two  silk 
squares  ingeniously  ornamented  and  pieced  with  gold 
for  the  same  contemptible  sum.  That  was  what  the 
men  wanted  at  the  missionary  house  where  I  was 
staying ;  at  the  Consul-General's  they  asked  me 
twenty-five  cents  :  that  is  the  price  of  being  an  official. 

I  liked  even  better  to  go  to  the  shops,  and  Chengtu 
is  so  progressive  that  that  is  quite  possible.  One  sec- 
tion is  given  over  to  brass  and  copper  dishes,  another 
to  furs,  another  to  porcelains,  and  so  on.  Indeed,  the 
town  seems  to  be  a  very  good  place  for  "  picking  up  " 
things,  for  hither  come  men  from  the  far  distant 
Tibetan  lamasseries,  and  patient  effort  is  often  re- 
warded with  interesting  spoil,  while  Chinese  produc- 
tions of  real  value  sometimes  drift  into  the  bazaar 
from  the  collections  of  the  ever-changing  officials. 

But  I  did  not  spend  all  my  days  bargaining  for 
curios,  although  they  were  tempting  enough,  for  there 
were  other  things  to  do  more  worth  while.  The  Eu- 
ropean community  of  Chengtu  is  surprisingly  large 


174  A  WAYFARER   IN   CHINA 

for  so  far  inland.  In  numbers,  of  course,  the  mission- 
aries lead,  and  besides  the  Roman  Catholic  mission 
there  are  representatives  of  English,  American,  and 
Canadian  churches,  all  working  together  to  give  to 
this  out-of-the-way  corner  of  the  empire  the  best  of 
Christian  and  Western  civilization.  Their  latest  and 
most  interesting  undertaking  is  a  university  on  West- 
ern lines,  the  outcome  of  the  combined  effort  of  the 
Friends',  Baptist,  and  Methodist  societies  of  Chengtu. 
The  economy  and  efficiency  secured  by  cooperation 
must  be  of  even  less  value  than  the  force  of  such  a 
lesson  in  Christian  harmony  to  the  keen-witted 
Chinese.  Indeed,  all  over  China  one  is  impressed  by 
the  wisdom  as  well  as  the  devotion  of  most  of  the  mis- 
sion work.  And  however  it  may  be  in  the  eastern 
seaports,  where  I  did  not  spend  much  time,  inland 
there  seems  to  be  the  best  of  feeling  between  the  dif- 
ferent elements  of  the  European  community,  official, 
missionary,  and  merchant.  Perhaps  because  they  are 
a  mere  handful  in  an  alien  people  they  are  forced  to 
see  each  other's  good  points,  and  realize  that  neither 
side  is  hopelessly  bad  nor  impossibly  good. 

There  is  quite  a  large  Tartar  population  in  Chengtu, 
and  the  Manchu  quarter  is  one  of  the  most  pictur- 
esque parts  of  the  city,  with  the  charm  of  a  dilapi- 
dated village  set  in  untidy  gardens  and  groves  of  fine 
trees.  Loafing  in  the  streets  and  doorways  are  tall, 
well-built  men  and  women,  but  they  had  a  rather 


ACROSS   CHENGTU   PLAIN  175 

down-at-heel  air,  for  their  fortunes  were  at  a  low  ebb 
when  I  was  in  Chengtu.  The  military  service  they 
once  rendered  had  been  displaced  by  the  new  mod- 
ern trained  troops,  and  three  years  ago  their  monthly 
rice  pension  of  four  taels,  about  $2.50,  was  cut  down 
by  a  viceroy  bidding  for  popular  support.  Although 
Chengtu  is  two  thousand  miles  from  the  sea,  it  is  one 
of  the  most  advanced  cities  of  China,  and  has  no  mind 
to  put  up  with  outgrown  things,  such  as  Manchu 
soldiers  and  Manchu  pensions.  It  boasts  to-day  a  mint 
turning  out  a  very  respectable  coinage,  a  large  ar- 
senal, and  a  university  of  more  promise,  perhaps,  than 
achievement ;  and  the  pride  of  the  moment  was  a  new 
arcade  of  shops  where  the  goods  were  set  out  with 
all  the  artifice  of  the  West  in  large  glazed  windows. 
Although  Japanese  and  Europeans  are  employed,  yet 
these  are  all  truly  native  undertakings,  and  that,  to 
my  mind,  is  the  best  part  of  Chengtu's  progress ;  it 
shows  what  the  Chinese  can  do  for  themselves,  not 
simply  following  Western  leadership.  And  on  the 
whole  they  seemed  last  year  to  be  doing  a  number  of 
things  very  well.  It  argued  real  efficiency,  I  think,  that 
the  officials  at  Chengtu  knew  at  every  moment  the 
whereabouts  of  the  travelling  foreigners  in  a  province 
larger  than  France.  To  be  sure,  we  were  only  two, 
Captain  Bailey  and  myself,  but  all  the  same  they 
could  not  have  done  it  save  by  a  very  up-to-date  use 
of  the  telegraph.  And  again,  the  Chengtu  police  are 


176  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

really  guardians  of  the  peace.  I  had  a  chance  to  see 
the  order  that  was  kept  one  night  when  my  chair-men 
lost  their  way  taking  me  to  a  dinner  at  the  house  of  the 
French  Consul-General,  quite  across  the  city  from 
where  I  was  staying.  For  more  than  an  hour  we 
wandered  about,  poking  into  all  sorts  of  dark  corners, 
finally  reaching  the  consulate  at  half-past  nine  instead 
of  an  hour  earlier,  and  nowhere,  either  in  thorough- 
fare or  alley,  was  there  any  rowdyism,  and  this  though 
it  was  the  night  of  the  Dragon  Festival  when  all  the 
people  were  making  holiday.  But  then  under  ordin- 
ary conditions  the  Chinese  is  a  peaceable  man ;  he 
has  his  own  interpretation  of  the  rule  of  life  :  in  or- 
der to  live,  let  others  live.  I  met  an  example  of  that 
in  Peking.  Opposite  the  hotel  door  stood  a  long  line 
of  rickshaws.  You  soon  had  a  favourite  man,  and  after 
that  the  others  never  thrust  themselves  forward,  but, 
instead,  at  once  set  up  a  shout  for  him  if  he  failed  to 
note  your  appearance.  However,  the  Chinese  indi- 
vidual is  one  thing,  the  Chinese  mob  another.  It  was 
not  many  years  since  an  infuriated  crowd  stormed 
through  the  streets  of  Chengtu  seeking  the  lives  of 
the  foreigners,  and  in  even  fewer  weeks  after  my  visit 
other  crowds  would  besiege  the  viceroy's  yamen  de- 
manding justice  for  their  wrongs.  For  even  when  I 
was  there  the  undercurrent  of  discontent  in  the  prov- 
ince was  visible.  The  students  of  the  university,  like 
those  in  Yunnan-fu,  had  more  than  once  got  out  of 


ACROSS  CHENGTU   PLAIN  177 

hand ;  people  complained  that  the  new  educational 
system  lacked  the  discipline  of  the  old,  and  indeed 
Young  China  seems  to  outdo  even  Young  America 
in  self-assurance,  and  in  the  spring  of  191 1  the  univer- 
sity was  just  beginning  to  recover  from  the  turmoil 
of  a  strike  of  the  students  for  some  real  or  fancied 
slight  by  the  Government. 

And  there  was  more  serious  trouble  afoot.  The 
Szechuan  merchants  and  gentry,  wealthy  and  enter- 
prising, had  contributed  generously  (for  China)  to 
the  building  of  a  railway  connecting  the  western 
capital  with  Wan-hsien  and  Ichang,  but  now  they 
were  hearing  that  the  money  had  been  squandered 
and  the  railway  was  to  be  built  with  foreign  capital. 
It  was  bad  enough  to  lose  their  money,  but  the  evil 
that  might  come  in  the  trail  of  the  foreigner's  money 
was  worse.  So  people  were  talking  hotly  against 
the  new  "  railway  agreement,"  and  it  proved  in  the 
end  the  proverbial  straw,  for  three  months  later 
the  Railway  League  of  Szechuan  set  in  motion  the 
revolution  which  overthrew  the  Manchus  and  the 
empire. 

But  these  things  were  still  on  the  knees  of  the 
gods,  and  my  stay  in  Chengtu  was  altogether  delight- 
ful, save  for  the  thought  that  here  my  out-of-the-way 
journeying  ended.  Henceforth  I  should  go  by  ways 
often  travelled  by  Europeans.  And  then  I  was  leaving 
so  much  behind.  Of  my  caravan  only  three  would 


178  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

go  on  with  me,  the  interpreter,  the  cook,  and  the 
Yunnan  coolie,  who  was  ready  to  stay  by  me  a  little 
longer.  The  rest  I  had  paid  off,  giving  to  all  a  well- 
earned  tip,  and  receiving  from  each  of  my  chair-men 
in  turn  a  pretty,  embarrassed  "  Thank  you,"  learned 
from  hearing  me  say  it.  The  pony,  too,  would  go  no 
farther,  for  most  of  the  next  month  my  travelling 
would  be  by  water,  so  I  handed  him  over  to  a  horse- 
loving  missionary,  and  I  only  hope  he  proved  worthy 
of  his  master.  My  chair,  which  had  been  such  a  com- 
fort for  so  many  weeks,  was  left  in  Chengtu  waiting 
a  chance  to  be  sent  to  Ning-yiian-fu,  where  I  trust 
it  arrived  in  time  to  serve  Mrs.  Wellwood  on  her 
hurried  journey  to  Yunnan-fu  at  the  outbreak  of  the 
Revolution.  Even  the  little  dog  came  nigh  to  ending 
his  travels  at  Chengtu,  for  the  Post  Commissioner 
put  forward  a  claim  of  common  Irish  blood,  which  I 
could  hardly  deny  because  of  the  many  kindnesses 
received  from  him.  But  I  could  not  make  up  my  mind 
to  part  with  my  little  comrade,  and  I  said  a  deter- 
mined nay. 

It  was  early  June  when  I  started  on  the  next  stage 
of  my  journey,  a  three  days'  trip  down  the  Min  River 
to  Chia-ting.  The  sun  was  sinking  as  I  went  on  board 
the  "  wu-pan  "  or  native  boat  lying  in  the  stream  out- 
side the  South  Gate,  and  after  carefully  counting 
heads  to  make  sure  that  the  crew  were  all  there,  and 
that  we  were  carrying  no  unauthorized  passengers, 


ACROSS  CHENGTU   PLAIN  179 

we  pushed  off  and  the  current  took  us  rapidly  out  of 
sight  of  Chengtu. 

The  trip  to  Chia-ting  was  very  delightful.  I  was 
tired  enough  to  enjoy  keeping  still,  and  lying  at  ease 
under  my  mat  shelter  I  lazily  watched  the  shores  slip 
past ;  wooded  slopes,  graceful  pagodas  crowning  the 
headlands,  long  stretches  of  fields  yellow  with  rape, 
white,  timbered  farmhouses  peeping  out  from  groves 
of  bamboo  and  orange  and  cedar,  it  was  all  a  beau- 
tiful picture  of  peaceful,  orderly  life  and  industry. 
Each  night  we  tied  up  near  some  village  where  the 
cook  and  boat  people  could  go  a-marketing,  gener- 
ally coming  back  after  an  hour  with  one  vegetable 
or  two.  As  the  river  was  high,  we  made  good  speed, 
and  on  the  morning  of  the  third  day  after  starting, 
the  picturesque  red  bluffs  opposite  Chia-ting  came  in 
sight. 


CHAPTER  IX 

OMEI   SHAN,   THE  SACRED 

THE  rose-red  city  of  Chia-ting  lives  in  my  mem- 
ory as  a  vision  of  beauty,  the  most  charming 
(at  a  distance)  of  the  many  charming  (always  at  a 
distance)  Chinese  towns  that  I  have  seen.  Built  on  a 
sandstone  ledge  at  the  junction  of  the  Ta  Tu  and  Ya 
with  the  Min,  its  crenellated  red  walls  rise  almost 
directly  from  the  water,  which,  when  in  flood,  dashes 
high  against  the  foundations.  On  the  northwest  the 
city  rises  to  nearly  three  hundred  feet  above  the  level, 
and  standing  on  the  wall  one  looks  down  upon  a  sea 
of  living  green  from  which  rise  temple  and  pagoda, 
or  west  across  Chia-ting  plain,  perhaps  the  loveliest 
and  most  fertile  spot  in  the  Chinese  Eden,  and  then 
farther  west  still  to  where  on  the  horizon  towers  Omei 
Shan,  the  Holy  of  Holies  of  Buddhist  China,  often, 
alas,  shrouded  in  mist  from  base  to  summit,  for  this 
is  a  land  of  clouds  and  rain  and  floods. 

Looking  across  the  river  to  the  great  cliffs  oppo- 
site the  town,  one  discerns  dimly,  carved  on  the  face 
of  the  rock,  the  wonder  of  the  region,  a  colossal 
Buddha  more  than  three  hundred  feet  in  height,  sit- 
ting serenely  with  his  hands  on  his  knees,  and  his 


OMEI   SHAN,   THE  SACRED          181 

feet,  or  what  ought  to  be  his  feet,  laved  by  the  rush- 
ing water  of  the  Ta  Fo  Rapid.  As  the  tale  runs,  this 
was  the  work  of  a  good  monk  of  the  eighth  century, 
who  spent  his  life  over  the  undertaking  in  the  hope 
that  by  this  pious  act  he  might  avert  the  terrible 
floods  that  devastated  the  region.  A  mighty  task 
boldly  conceived  and  patiently  carried  out,  but  still 
the  rain  pours  down,  and  still  the  rivers  rise  and 
drown  the  land. 

Baber  tells  the  dramatic  story  of  one  of  the  greatest 
of  the  floods.  It  occurred  in  1786  when  the  fall  of  a  cliff 
in  the  Ta  Tu  dammed  the  river  completely  for  a  time. 
Warnings  were  sent  to  the  villages  along  the  banks, 
and  many  fled  to  the  hills,  but  the  people  of  Chia- 
ting,  trusting  to  their  open  plain  over  which  the  water 
could  spread  itself,  scouted  the  warning,  and  the  cry, 
"  Shui  lai-la"  ("  The  water  is  coming"),  became  the 
catchword  of  the  hour.  Let  Baber  tell  the  rest :  — 

"  It  was  holiday  in  Chia-ting  some  days  after  the 
receipt  of  the  notice,  and  the  light  hearted  crowds 
which  gathered  on  such  occasions  were  chiefly  at- 
tracted by  a  theatrical  representation  on  the  flat  by 
the  water-side.  One  of  the  actors  suddenly  stopped 
in  the  middle  of  his  r61e,  and  gazing  up  the  river, 
screamed  out  the  now  familiar  by-word, '  Shui  lai-la ! ' 
This  repetition  of  the  stock  jest,  with  well-simulated 
terror,  as  it  seemed  to  the  merry-makers,  drew  shouts 
of  laughter ;  but  the  echoes  of  the  laugh  were  drowned 


i82  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

in  the  roar  of  a  deluge.  I  was  told  how  the  gleeful 
faces  turned  to  horror  as  the  flood  swept  on  like  a 
moving  wall,  and  overwhelmed  twelve  thousand 
souls." 

While  in  Chia-ting  I  crossed  the  river  one  day  to 
see  the  great  Buddha  from  near  by,  but  it  is  very 
difficult  to  get  a  good  view  of  the  image.  The  river 
runs  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff  at  such  a  rate  that  it  was 
all  the  boatmen  could  do  to  keep  us  off  the  rocks,  and 
looking  down  from  above,  the  overhanging  shrubs 
and  grasses  almost  hide  it  from  sight.  There  is  an 
interesting  monastery  on  the  summit  of  the  hill,  called 
the  "  Monastery  of  the  Voice  of  the  Waters."  Here  I 
spent  a  delightful  hour  wandering  through  the  neg- 
lected garden  and  looking  over  the  treasures  of  the 
place,  a  rather  remarkable  collection  of  drawings  and 
inscriptions  engraved  on  slate,  the  work  of  distin- 
guished visitors  of  past  times,  some  dating  back  even 
to  the  Sung  period.  There  were  landscapes  extremely 
well  done,  others  were  merely  a  flower  or  branch  of  a 
blooming  shrub,  but  all  bore  some  classic  quotation 
in  ornamental  Chinese  character.  I  bought  of  the 
priest  for  a  dollar  a  bundle  of  really  fine  rubbings  of 
these  engravings.  At  another  monastery  a  gallery  full 
of  images  of  the  "  Lo-han,"  the  worthiest  of  Buddha's 
disciples,  was  being  tidied  up.  The  variety  of  pose 
and  expression  in  these  fifty-odd  life-size  images  was 
extraordinary,  and  some  of  them  were  wonderfully 


OMEI   SHAN,   THE  SACRED  183 

good,  but  the  workmen  handled  them  without  re- 
spect as  they  cleaned  and  painted.  It  is  a  Chinese 
proverb  that  says,  "The  image-maker  does  not  wor- 
ship the  gods ;  he  knows  what  they  are  made  of." 

There  is  one  drawback  to  the  delights  of  Chia-ting, 
and  that  is  the  climate.  To  live  and  work  in  the  damp 
heat  that  prevails  much  of  the  time  must  test  the 
strength,  and  I  imagine  the  Europeans  stationed  here 
find  it  so.  Chia-ting  boasts  two  strong  Protestant 
missions,  American  Baptist  and  Canadian  Methodist, 
well  equipped  with  schools  and  a  hospital,  and  they 
are  hard  at  work  making  Chia-ting  over,  body  and 
soul.  At  the  time  of  my  visit  they  were  engaged  in 
a  strenuous  contest  with  the  representatives  of  the 
British  American  Tobacco  Company,  and  both  sides 
were  placarding  the  town  with  posters  setting  forth 
the  evils  or  the  benefits  of  cigarette-smoking. 

Chia-ting  is  the  great  point  of  departure  for  Mount 
Omei,  thirty  miles  away,  and  I  stayed  only  long 
enough  to  rearrange  my  kit  and  hire  coolies  for  the 
trip.  Again  I  had  a  chance  to  see  the  strength  that 
the  Chinese  have  through  organization.  Each  quarter 
of  Chia-ting  has  its  coolie  hong,  and  woe  betide  you 
if  you  fall  out  with  your  own  ;  you  will  have  difficulty 
in  getting  served  elsewhere.  Fortunately  my  host  was 
on  good  terms  with  his  proper  hong,  and  after  a  good- 
humored,  long-drawn-out  discussion  I  secured  the 
men  I  wanted. 


184  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

It  was  raining  when  we  started  from  Chia-ting  and 
it  kept  on  all  day.  Nevertheless,  as  soon  as  I  was  out- 
side the  West  Gate  of  the  city  I  exchanged  my  closed 
chair  for  one  specially  devised  for  the  mountain 
climb,  simply  a  bamboo  chair  furnished  with  a  swing- 
ing board  for  a  foot-rest.  It  gave  of  course  no  pro- 
tection against  sun  or  rain,  but  there  was  nothing  to 
cut  off  the  view.  The  closed  chair  affected  by  the 
Chinese  seemed  to  me  intolerable,  a  stuffy  box  half 
closed  in  front,  and  with  mere  loopholes  on  the  sides. 
But  fifteen  years  ago  no  European  woman  could 
ride  in  anything  else  without  danger  of  being  mobbed. 

All  the  first  day  we  were  crossing  the  beautiful 
Chia-ting  plain,  seamed  and  watered  by  many  rivers 
and  streams.  The  path  wound  in  and  out  among 
splendid  fields  of  maize  and  fine  fruit  orchards,  and 
the  comfortable  looking  villages  were  densely  shaded 
with  oak  and  mulberry  trees.  It  ought  to  be  a  pros- 
perous district,  for  not  only  is  it  rich  in  natural  re- 
sources, but  the  throngs  of  pilgrims  that  pass  through 
here  on  their  way  to  the  Sacred  Mountain  must 
bring  a  lot  of  money  into  the  towns. 

At  the  start  we  kept  above  the  Ta  Tu,  but  later  we 
crossed  the  Ya,  now  a  strong-flowing  tranquil  'river, 
and  farther  along  still  at  the  little  town  of  Siichi 
("  Joyous  Stream  "),  famous  for  its  silk,  we  came  to 
the  Omei,  which  has  its  sources  on  the  lower  slopes 
of  the  Great  Mountain.  After  this  the  country  was 


OMEI   SHAN,   THE  SACRED  185 

more  broken,  but  everywhere  there  was  the  same 
careful  cultivation,  and  on  all  sides  we  heard  the 
plash  of  falling  water  and  the  soft  whirr  of  the  great 
Persian  wheels  busily  at  work  bringing  water  to  the 
thirsty  land ;  and  occasionally  we  saw  men  working 
with  the  foot  a  smaller  wheel  by  which  the  next 
higher  levels  were  irrigated. 

Chen  Chia  Ch'ang,  a  small  market-town  a  few 
miles  east  of  Omei-hsien,  made  a  charming  picture, 
its  walls  shining  white  against  the  dark  background 
of  the  mountain  as  we  approached  it  across  the  green 
rice-fields.  Entering  its  broad,  crowded  street  we 
found  a  theatrical  performance  going  on  in  an  open 
hall  opposite  the  temple.  While  my  coolies  were 
drinking  tea  I  joined  the  crowd  in  front  of  the  stage, 
which  was  raised  several  feet  above  the  street.  The 
play,  which  was  in  honour  of  the  village  idol,  was 
beyond  my  comprehension,  but  the  pantomime  of 
the  actors  was  very  good.  This  sort  of  thing  is  dearly 
liked  by  the  Chinese.  The  players  are  usually  main- 
tained by  the  village,  and  a  good  deal  of  the  unpopu- 
larity of  the  Christian  converts  arises,  I  am  told,  from 
their  unwillingness  to  contribute  because  of  the  so- 
called  idolatrous  character  of  the  performance. 

The  town  of  Omei  where  we  spent  the  night  seems 
to  exist  chiefly  for  the  sake  of  the  thousands  of  pil- 
grims who  make  a  last  halt  here  before  they  begin 
the  ascent  of  the  mountain.  Mindful  of  the  many 


1 86  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

Tibetans  who  pass  through  here  in  the  spring,  I  made 
a  raid  upon  the  shops,  but  in  vain ;  all  that  I  found 
was  two  good  pieces  of  Chinese  bronze.  The  owner 
and  I  could  not  agree  on  a  price,  so  I  left  him  to 
think  it  over  until  I  came  by  again,  and  then  he  was 
away  and  his  wife  did  not  dare  unlock  his  cases,  al- 
though I  offered  her  what  he  had  asked.  The  rain 
poured  down,  but  a  crowd  gathered  to  offer  sympa- 
thy and  suggestions,  while  my  men  and  I  argued 
with  her.  Would  she  not  fare  worse  if  her  husband 
found  she  had  missed  a  sale  than  if  she  disobeyed 
orders  ?  All  to  no  purpose,  so  I  went  away  empty- 
handed.  That  evening  it  rained  brass  pots,  but  alas, 
nothing  that  I  wanted. 

Usually  in  these  small  places  the  woman  seems  a 
very  active  member  of  the  establishment,  and  I  am 
told  that  a  man  often  wishes  to  consult  his  wife  before 
making  a  large  deal.  The  Chinese  woman,  perhaps, 
lacks  the  charm  of  the  Japanese  or  Indian,  but  in 
spite  of  her  many  handicaps  she  impresses  the  out- 
sider with  her  native  good  sense  and  forcefulness, 
and  I  should  expect  that  even  more  than  the  other 
two  she  would  play  a  great  part  in  the  development 
of  her  people  when  her  chance  came. 

It  was  again  raining  when  we  started  the  next 
morning ;  indeed,  it  seemed  a  long  time  since  I  had 
felt  really  dry,  but  the  grey  day  harmonized  perfectly 
with  the  soft  English  beauty  of  the  country  that  lies 


OMEI   SHAN,   THE  SACRED          187 

between  Omei-hsien  and  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  / 
wooded  lanes  and  glens,  little  brooks  rippling  be-  I 
tween  flowery  banks,  fine  stone  bridges  spanning  the  I 
swift  green  Omei,  red  temples  overhung  by  splendid  / 
banyan  trees,  and  over  all  the  dark  mysterious  moun- 
tain, lifting  its  crown  ten  thousand  feet  above  our 
heads.  Did  ever  pilgrim  tread  a  more  beautiful  path 
to  the  Delectable  Mountains?  And  there  were  so 
many  pilgrims,  men  and  women,  all  clad  in  their  best, 
and  with  the  joy  of  a  holiday  shining  in  their  faces. 
There  were  few  children,  but  some  quite  old  people, 
and  many  were  women  hobbling  pluckily  along  on 
their  tiny  feet;  the  majority,  however,  were  young 
men,  chosen  perhaps  as  the  most  able  to  perform  the 
duty  for  the  whole  family.  They  seemed  mostly  of  a 
comfortable  farmer  class ;  the  very  poor  cannot  afford 
the  journey;  and  as  for  the  rich  —  does  wealth  ever 
go  on  a  pilgrimage  nowadays?  All  carried  on  the 
back  a  yellow  bag  (yellow  is  Buddha's  colour)  con- 
taining bundles  of  tapers  to  burn  before  the  shrines, 
and  in  their  girdles  were  strings  of  cash  to  pay  their 
way ;  priests  and  beggars  alike  must  be  appeased. 

After  an  hour  or  so  we  left  behind  the  cultivation 
of  the  valley,  and  entered  the  wild  gorge  of  the  Omei, 
and  after  this  our  path  led  upwards  through  fine 
forests  of  ash  and  oak  and  pine.  The  road  grew 
steeper  and  steeper,  often  just  a  rough  staircase  of 
several  hundred  steps,  over  which  we  slipped  and 


188  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

scrambled.  Rain  dripped  from  the  branches,  brooks 
dashed  down  the  mountain-side.  We  had  left  behind 
the  great  heat  of  the  plain,  but  within  the  walls  of 
the  forest  the  air  was  warm  and  heavy.  But  nothing 
could  damp  the  ardour  of  the  pilgrim  horde.  A  few 
were  in  chairs ;  I  had  long  since  jumped  out  of  mine, 
although  as  Liu  complained,  "Why  does  the  Ku  Ni- 
ang  hire  one  if  she  will  not  use  it?  "  He  dearly  loved 
his  ease,  but  had  scruples  about  riding  if  I  walked,  or 
perhaps  his  bearers  had.  Some  of  the  wayfarers,  old 
men  and  women,  were  carried  pick-a-back  on  a  board 
seat  fastened  to  the  coolie1  s  shoulders.  It  looked  hor- 
ribly insecure  and  I  much  preferred  trusting  to  my 
own  feet,  but  after  all  I  never  saw  an  accident,  while 
I  fell  many  times  coming  down  the  mountain. 

The  beginnings  of  Mount  Omei's  story  go  back  to 
the  days  before  writing  was,  and  of  myth  and  legend 
there  is  a  great  store,  and  naturally  enough.  This 
marvel  of  beauty  and  grandeur  rising  stark  from  the 
plain  must  have  filled  the  man  of  the  lowlands  with 
awe  and  fear,  and  his  fancy  would  readily  people 
these  inaccessible  heights  and  gloomy  forests  with 
the  marvels  of  primitive  imagination.  On  the  north 
the  mountain  rises  by  gentle  wooded  slopes  to  a 
height  of  nearly  ten  thousand  feet  above  the  plain, 
while  on  the  south  the  summit  ends  in  a  tremendous 
precipice  almost  a  mile  up  and  down  as  though 
slashed  off  by  the  sword  of  a  Titan. 


OMEI  SHAN,  THE  SACRED          189 

Perhaps  in  earliest  times  the  Lolos  worshipped 
here,  and  the  mountain  still  figures  in  their  legends. 
But  Chinese  tradition  goes  back  four  thousand  years 
when  pious  hermits  made  their  home  on  Omei.  And 
there  is  a  story  of  how  the  Yellow  Emperor,  seeking 
immortality,  came  to  one  of  them.  But  Buddha  now 
reigns  supreme  on  Omei ;  of  all  the  many  temples,  one 
only  is  Taoist.  According  to  the  legend,  at  the  very 
beginning  of  Buddhist  influence  in  China,  P'u-hsien 
Bodhisattva  revealed  himself  to  a  wandering  official 
in  that  wonderful  thing  known  as  "  Buddha's  Glory,*' 
and  from  this  time  on,  Mount  Omei  became  the 
centre  from  which  the  light  of  Buddhist  teaching  was 
spread  abroad  over  the  entire  country. 

The  land  now  belongs  to  the  Church,  and  there  are 
not  many  people  on  the  mountain  besides  the  two 
thousand  monks  scattered  about  in  the  different  mon- 
asteries which  occupy  every  point  where  a  flat  spur 
or  buttress  offers  a  foothold.  Each  has  its  objects  of 
interest  or  veneration,  and  I  believe  that  to  do  one's 
duty  by  Omei,  one  must  burn  offerings  before  sixty- 
two  shrines.  Judging  by  the  determined  look  on  some 
of  the  pilgrims'  faces,  they  were  bent  on  making  the 
grand  tour  in  the  shortest  time  possible ;  in  fact,  they 
almost  raced  up  the  breakneck  staircases.  To  save 
expense,  some  make  the  whole  ascent  of  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  li  from  Omei-hsien  in  a  day.  Even 
women  on  their  bound  feet  sometimes  do  this,  I  am 


190  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

told.  I  would  not  believe  it  on  any  authority  had  I  not 
seen  for  myself  the  tramps  these  poor  crippled  crea- 
tures often  take. 

As  I  was  in  no  hurry,  we  stopped  for  the  night  at 
Wan-nien  Ssu,  or  the  "  Monastery  of  Ten  Thousand 
Years,"  one  of  the  largest  on  the  mountain  and  with 
a  recorded  history  that  goes  back  more  than  fifteen 
hundred  years.  We  were  made  very  welcome,  for  the 
days  have  passed  when  foreigners  were  turned  from 
the  door.  Their  patronage  is  eagerly  sought  and  also 
their  contributions.  After  inspecting  our  quarters, 
which  opened  out  of  an  inner  court  and  were  spacious 
and  fairly  clean,  I  started  out  at  once  to  see  the  sights 
of  the  place,  for  daylight  dies  early  in  these  dense 
woods.  Like  all  the  rest  Wan-nien  Ssu  is  plainly  built 
of  timbers,  and  cannot  compare  with  the  picturesque 
curly-roofed  buildings  one  sees  in  the  plains  below. 
Indeed,  it  reminded  me  of  the  Tibetan  lamasseries 
about  Tachienlu,  and  it  is  true  that  thousands  of  Ti- 
betans find  their  way  hither  each  spring,  and  the  hill- 
sides reecho  their  mystic  spell,  "  Om  mani  padme 
hum,"  only  less  often  than  the  Chinese,  "  Omi  to  fo." 

Behind  the  building  where  I  was  quartered  is  an- 
other, forming  part  of  the  same  monastery,  and  within 
is  concealed  rather  than  displayed  the  treasure  of  the 
place,  and  indeed  the  most  wonderful  monument  on 
the  mountain,  a  huge  image  of  Fu-hsien  enthroned 
on  the  back  of  a  life-size  elephant,  all  admirably  cast 


OMEI   SHAN,  THE  SACRED          191 

in  bronze.  Although  dating  from  the  ninth  century, 
the  wonderful  creation  remained  unknown  to  the 
"  outside  barbarian "  until  Baber  came  this  way  a 
generation  ago.  He  speaks  of  it  as  probably  the 
"  most  ancient  bronze  casting  of  any  great  size  in 
existence."  It  is  a  sad  pity  that  no  one  has  succeeded 
in  getting  a  good  picture  of  this  notable  work,  but 
not  merely  is  it  railed  about  with  a  stone  palisade, 
but  the  whole  is  enclosed  in  a  small  building  of  heavy 
brick  and  masonry  with  walls  twelve  feet  thick,  which 
secure  it  against  wind  and  rain,  but  also  keep  out 
most  of  the  light. 

Wan-nien  Ssu  boasts  another  treasure  more  readily 
displayed,  a  so-called  tooth  of  Buddha  weighing  about 
eighteen  pounds.  The  simple  pilgrims  looked  on  rev- 
erently as  the  priests  held  it  before  me,  but  the  latter 
had  a  knowing  look  when  I  expressed  my  wonder  at 
the  stature  of  the  being  who  had  teeth  of  such  size. 
Probably  they  knew  as  well  as  I  that  it  was  an  ele- 
phant's molar,  but  they  were  not  above  playing  on 
the  credulity  of  the  ignorant  folk. 

Out  of  respect  for  the  feelings  of  the  monks  I  had 
brought  up  no  fresh  meat,  and  of  course  there  is  none 
to  be  obtained  on  the  mountain,  so  I  dined  rather 
meagrely.  Although  the  people  generally  do  not 
hesitate  to  eat  meat  when  they  can  get  it,  the  priests 
hold  stiffly  to  the  Buddhist  discipline  which  forbids 
the  taking  of  life,  and  it  is  only  unwillingly  that  they 


192  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

have  acquiesced  in  foreigners'  bringing  meat  into 
the  monastic  precincts  or  even  onto  the  mountain. 
But  at  least  they  did  their  best  to  make  good  any 
lack  by  sending  in  dishes  of  Chinese  sweetmeats, 
candied  seeds,  ginger,  dried  fruits.  After  dinner  one 
of  the  younger  priests  sat  for  a  long  time  by  my 
brazier,  amusing  himself  with  Jack,  the  like  of  whom 
he  had  never  seen  before,  and  asking  many  simple 
questions.  What  was  I  writing  ?  How  did  I  live  ? 
Where  would  I  go  when  I  went  away  ?  Where  was 
my  husband  ? — the  same  questions  asked  everywhere 
by  the  untutored,  be  it  in  the  mountains  of  Kentucky 
or  on  the  sacred  heights  of  Mount  Omei. 

On  leaving  the  next  morning  the  "Yuan-pu,"  or 
"  Subscription  Book  of  the  Temple,"  a  substantial 
volume  in  which  one  writes  one's  name  and  donation, 
was  duly  put  before  me.  Being  warned  beforehand  I 
knew  what  to  give,  and  I  was  not  to  be  moved  even 
though  my  attention  was  called  to  much  larger  sums 
given  by  other  visitors ;  but  I  had  also  been  told  of 
the  trick  practised  here  of  altering  the  figures  as 
served  their  purpose,  so  I  was  not  moved  even  by 
this  appeal. 

The  next  day  brought  us  to  the  summit  after  a 
wearying  pull  up  interminable  rock  staircases  as 
steep  as  the  steepest  attic  stairs,  and  hundreds  of  feet 
high.  Most  of  the  time  we  were  in  thick  woods,  only 
occasionally  coming  out  into  a  little  clearing,  but 


OMEH/SHAN,  THE  SACRED          193 

even  when  the  trees  fell  away,  and  there  ought  to 
have  been  a  view,  nothing  was  to  be  seen,  for  the 
thick  mists  shut  out  all  above  and  below.  We  passed 
by  innumerable  monasteries,  most  of  them  looking 
prosperous  and  well  patronized ;  they  must  reap 
a  rich  harvest  in  cash  from  the  countless  pilgrims. 
Everywhere  building  was  going  on,  indicating  hope- 
ful fortunes,  or,  more  likely,  recent  disaster,  for  it  is 
the  prevailing  dampness  alone  that  saves  the  whole 
mountainside  from  being  swept  by  fires,  and  they  are 
all  too  frequent  as  it  is. 

It  is  one  of  the  many  topsy-turvy  things  in  topsy- 
turvy China  that  this  prosaic  people  is  so  addicted 
to  picturesque  and  significant  terms.  I  found  the 
names  of  some  of  the  monasteries  quite  as  interesting 
as  anything  else  about  them.  From  the  "  Pinnacle  of 
Contemplation "  you  ascend  to  the  "  Monastery  of 
the  White  Clouds,"  stopping  to  rest  in  the  "Hall  of 
the  Tranquil  Heart,"  and  passing  the  "Gate  to 
Heaven "  you  enter  the  "  Monastery  of  Everlasting 
Joy." 

Toward  the  summit  the  forest  dwindled  until  there 
was  little  save  scrub  pine  and  oak,  a  kind  of  dwarf 
bamboo,  and  masses  of  rhododendron.  At  last  we 
came  out  into  a  large  clearing  just  as  the  sun  burst 
from  the  clouds,  lighting  up  the  gilded  ball  that 
surmounts  the  monastery  where  I  hoped  to  find 
shelter,  the  Chin  Tien,  or  "  Golden  Hall  of  the  True 


194  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

Summit,"  a  group  of  low  timbered  buildings,  quite 
without  architectural  pretensions.  Entering  the  open 
doorway  I  faced  a  large  shrine  before  which  wor- 
shippers were  bending  undisturbed  by  our  noisy 
entrance.  Stairs  on  either  hand  of  the  shrine  led  to  a 
large  grassy  court  surrounded  on  all  four  sides  by 
one-story  buildings,  connected  by  a  broad  corridor 
or  verandah,  and  back  of  this,  steep  steps  led  to  a 
temple  perched  on  the  very  edge  of  the  great  cliff. 

A  young  priest  came  to  meet  me  and  very  courte- 
ously showed  me  the  guest-rooms,  allowing  me  to 
choose  two  in  the  most  retired  corner,  one  for  myself 
and  another  for  the  interpreter  and  cook,  while  the 
coolies  found  comfortable  quarters  near  by.  View 
there  was  none,  for  my  room,  though  adorned  with 
real  glazed  windows,  looked  out  on  a  steep  bank, 
but  at  least  it  had  an  outside  door  through  which  I 
might  come  and  go  at  will.  The  furniture  was  of  the 
usual  sort,  only  in  better  condition  than  ordinarily ; 
heavy  beds,  chairs,  tables,  but  everything  was  sur- 
prisingly clean  and  sweet-smelling. 

Here  in  this  Buddhist  monastery  on  the  lofty  sum- 
mit of  China's  most  sacred  mountain  I  spent  three 
peaceful  days,  happy  in  having  a  part  in  the  simple 
life  about  me.  Chin  Tien  is  one  of  the  largest  and 
most  prosperous  of  Omei's  monasteries,  and  it  is  also 
one  of  the  best  conducted.  Everything  was  orderly 
and  quiet.  Discipline  seemed  well  maintained,  and 


OMEI  SHAN,  THE  SACRED  195 

there  was  no  unseemly  begging  for  contributions  as 
at  Wan-nien  Ssu.  It  boasts  an  abbot  and  some  twenty- 
five  full-fledged  monks  and  acolytes.  All  day  long 
pilgrims,  lay  and  monastic,  were  coming  and  going, 
and  the  little  bell  that  is  rung  to  warn  the  god  of  the 
presence  of  a  worshipper  tinkled  incessantly.  Some 
were  monks  who  had  come  long  distances,  perhaps 
from  farthermost  Tibet,  making  the  great  pilgrimage 
to  "  gain  merit "  for  themselves  and  for  their  mon- 
astery. Many  of  the  houses  on  Omei  gave  to  these 
visitors  crude  maps  or  plans  of  the  mountain,  duly 
stamped  with  the  monastery  seal,  as  proof  that  the 
journey  had  been  made,  and  on  my  departure  one 
such,  properly  sealed  with  the  Chin  Tien  stamp,  was 
given  to  me. 

One  day  was  like  another,  and  all  were  peaceful 
and  full  of  interest.  I  expect  the  weather  was  as  good 
as  one  could  look  for  at  this  season  of  the  year ; 
although  the  mists  rolled  in  early  in  the  forenoon 
shutting  out  the  plain,  yet  there  was  little  rain,  and 
the  night  and  dawn  were  glorious.  Each  morning  I 
was  out  before  sunrise,  and  standing  on  the  steps  of 
the  upper  temple  saw  the  whole  western  horizon  re- 
vealed before  my  enchanted  eyes.  A  hundred  miles 
away  stretched  the  long  line  of  the  Tibetan  snow- 
peaks,  their  tops  piercing  the  sky.  It  seemed  but  a 
step  from  earth  to  heaven,  and  how  many  turn  away 
from  the  wonderful  sight  to  take  that  step.  Two 


196  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

strides  back  and  you  are  standing  awestruck  on  the 
edge  of  the  stupendous  precipice.  The  fascination  of 
the  place  is  overpowering,  whether  you  gaze  straight 
down  into  the  black  depths  or  whether  the  mists, 
rolling  up  like  great  waves  of  foam,  woo  you  gently 
to  certain  death.  No  wonder  the  place  is  called  "  The 
Rejection  of  the  Body,"  and  that  men  and  women 
longing  to  free  themselves  from  the  weary  Wheel  of 
Life,  seek  the  "  Peace  of  the  Great  Release  "  with  one 
wild  leap  into  the  abyss  below. 

At  every  hour  of  the  day  pilgrims  were  standing  at 
the  railed-in  edge  of  the  cliff,  straining  their  eyes  to 
see  into  the  uttermost  depths  below,  or  looking  sky- 
wards for  a  sight  of  "  Buddha's  Glory,"  that  strange 
phenomenon  which  has  never  been  quite  explained ; 
it  may  be  akin  to  the  Spectre  of  the  Brocken,  but  to 
the  devout  Buddhist  pilgrim  it  is  the  crowning  mar- 
vel of  Mount  Omei. 

Looking  off  to  the  north  and  east  one  saw  stretched 
out,  nearly  ten  thousand  feet  below,  the  green  plains 
and  silver  rivers  of  Szechuan.  Southward  rose  the 
black  peaks  and  ranges  of  Lololand,  buttressed  on 
the  north  by  the  great,  table-shaped  Wa  Shan,  sec- 
ond only  to  Omei  in  height  and  sacredness. 

Before  the  first  day  was  past  every  one  had  become 
accustomed  to  my  presence,  and  I  attracted  no  at- 
tention as  I  came  and  went.  My  wants  were  looked 
after,  and  one  or  the  other  of  the  little  acolytes  spent 


THE    "  REJECTION   OF   THE    BODY  " 
Cliff  a  mile  high.     Mount  Omei,  West  Szechuan 


OMEI  SHAN,   THE  SACRED  197 

many  hours  in  my  room,  tending  the  fire  in  the  bra- 
zier, or  playing  with  Jack,  or  munching  the  sweet- 
meats with  which  I  was  kept  supplied.  They  were 
nice  little  lads  and  did  not  bother  me,  and  rarely  did 
any  one  else  disturb  my  quiet ;  it  was  such  a  comfort 
after  the  living  in  public  of  the  last  month. 

The  second  morning  of  my  stay  I  attended  an 
early  service  in  the  lower  temple  near  my  room. 
Some  twelve  monks  took  part ;  one,  the  abbot,  was  a 
large,  fine-looking  man,  and  all  had  rather  agreeable 
faces,  quite  unlike  the  brutal,  vicious  look  of  the  la- 
mas of  Tachienlu.  There  was  much  that  recalled  the 
ritual  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  —  processions, 
genuflexions,  chanting,  burning  of  incense,  lighting 
of  candles,  tinkling  of  bells,  —  all  centring  round  a 
great  figure  of  Sakyamuni.  The  words  I  could  not 
understand,  but  the  reverent  expression  on  the  monks' 
faces,  their  orderly  bearing  as  they  circled  slowly 
round,  keeping  always  the  bared  right  shoulder  to- 
ward the  image,  made  the  service  very  impressive 
in  spite  of  the  pranks  of  the  little  acolytes  and  the 
loud  talk  of  passing  men  and  women. 

In  turn  I  visited  the  near-by  temples,  but  few  were 
of  any  special  interest.  The  hilltop  has  been  burnt  over 
several  times,  the  last  time  within  a  generation,  and 
all  the  buildings  on  the  summit  are  of  recent  date. 
The  most  famous  of  all,  the  great  bronze  temple 
dating  from  the  fifteenth  century,  which  after  being 


198  A  WAYFARER  IN  CHINA 

struck  by  lightning  several  times  was  finally  de- 
stroyed, has  never  been  restored,  thus  giving  the  lie 
to  the  popular  belief  that  what  the  lightning  destroys 
the  gods  will  replace.  The  fragments  of  castings  that 
are  left  are  really  fine,  and  it  is  a  marvel  how  they 
ever  were  brought  from  Chengtu  where  they  were 
made,  for  many  are  of  great  weight.  A  little  below 
the  trail  by  which  we  came  was  the  pewter-roofed 
monastery,  very  appropriate  here,  as  pewter  is  the 
only  metal  the  Buddhist  pilgrim  is  supposed  to  use 
or  possess. 

But  after  all,  the  charm  of  the  place  lay  not  in  this 
or  that  building  or  relic,  but  in  the  beauty  of  the  sur- 
roundings and  in  the  peace  of  spirit  that  seemed  to 
abide  here.  No  need  to  cast  one's  self  over  the  preci- 
pice to  secure  freedom  from  the  body.  Here  on  the 
high  mountain-top  among  these  simple  minds,  the 
cares  and  bothers  of  the  life  of  the  plain  seemed  to 
fall  off.  If  I  came  as  a  sight-seer  I  went  away  in  the 
mood  of  a  pilgrim.  Turning  my  back  upon  the 
crowded  paths  I  spent  long  hours  of  quiet  under 
the  pines  on  the  western  slope,  facing  always  toward 
the  mountains.  Sometimes  the  clouds  concealed  them 
wholly,  at  other  times  just  one  peak  emerged,  and 
then  perhaps  for  a  moment  the  mists  rolled  away, 
and  the  whole  snowy  line  stood  revealed  like  the 
ramparts  of  a  great  city,  the  city  of  God. 

And  the  best  of  all  was  not  the  day,  but  the  night. 


OMEI   SHAN,   THE  SACRED  199 

The  monastery  went  early  to  bed,  and  by  ten  o'clock 
bells  had  ceased  to  ring,  the  lights  were  out.  Then 
came  my  time.  Slipping  out  of  my  room  I  stole  up 
the  slope  to  the  overhanging  brow  of  the  cliff.  The 
wind  had  died  down,  the  birds  were  still,  not  a  sound 
broke  the  great  silence.  At  my  feet  were  the  depths, 
to  the  west  rose  height  on  height,  and  on  all  lay  the 
white  light  of  the  moon.  Close  by  hundreds  of  weary 
pilgrims  were  sleeping  heavily  on  their  hard  beds. 
Day  after  day  and  year  after  year  they  climbed  these 
steeps  seeking  peace  and  help,  pinning  their  hopes 
to  burning  joss  stick  and  tinkling  bell  and  mystic 
words,  and  in  Western  lands  were  other  pilgrims  en- 
tangled likewise  in  the  mazes  of  dogma  and  form. 
But  here  among  the  stars,  in  the  empty,  soundless 
space  of  the  white  night,  the  gods  that  man  has 
created  seemed  to  vanish,  and  there  stood  out  clear 
the  hope  that  when  time  has  ceased,  — 

"When  whelmed  are  altar,  priest,  and  creed; 

When  all  the  faiths  have  passed; 
Perhaps,  from  darkening  incense  freed, 
God  may  emerge  at  last." 

Finally  the  day  came  when  I  was  forced  to  turn 
away  from  the  miracles  of  Omei.  Our  stores  were 
almost  gone,  and  the  coolies  had  burnt  their  last  joss 
sticks;  so  I  took  farewell  of  the  kindly  monks  of 
Chin  Tien  and  started  down  the  mountain.  The  sun 
shone  as  we  set  off,  but  as  we  descended,  the  clouds 


200  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

gathered  and  the  rain  fell  in  torrents.  Each  steep, 
straight  staircase  was  a  snare  to  our  feet.  Sprawling 
and  slithering  we  made  our  way  down.  No  one  es- 
caped, and  the  woods  resounded  with  gay  cries, 
"  Have  a  care,  Omi  to  fo  1  Hold  on  tight,  Omi  to  fo ! 
Now,  go  ahead,  Omi  to  fo ! "  There  was  no  going 
slowly,  you  stood  still  or  went  with  a  rush.  Women 
tottering  along  on  crippled  feet  pointed  cheerily  at 
my  big  shoes.  I  dare  say  the  difference  in  size  con- 
soled them  for  all  their  aches  and  pains. 

It  was  almost  dark  when  we  reached  Omei-hsien, 
soaked  to  the  skin.  I  had  a  big  fire  made  for  the 
coolies  and  we  all  gathered  round  in  companionable 
fashion  for  the  last  time.  The  return  journey  the  next 
day  across  the  plain  was  as  charming  as  ever,  but 
the  steamy  heat  of  the  low  level  was  very  depressing, 
and  we  were  all  glad  to  take  to  a  boat  for  the  last 
twenty-two  li. 

I  had  one  more  day  in  Chia-ting,  visiting  one  or 
two  temples  and  making  the  last  arrangements  for 
the  trip  down  the  river  to  Chung-king.  Wisely 
helped  by  one  of  the  American  missionaries  I  secured 
a  very  comfortable  wu-pan,  for  which  I  paid  twenty- 
five  dollars  Mexican.  It  was  well  fitted  out,  and 
equipped  with  a  crew  of  seven,  including  the  cap- 
tain's wife,  and  a  small  dog  known  as  the  "  tailless 
one."  We  started  down  the  river  late  in  the  after- 
noon. There  was  just  time  for  one  look  at  the  Great 


OMEI   SHAN,   THE  SACRED          201 

Buddha  as  the  current  hurled  us  almost  under  his 
feet,  then  a  last  glance  at  the  beautiful  town,  all  rose 
and  green,  and  a  wonderful  chapter  in  my  journey- 
ing had  come  to  an  end.  Only  three  months  later 
and  Chia-ting  was  aflame  with  the  fires  of  revolution, 
for  it  was  the  first  city  in  all  Szechuan  to  declare  for 
the  Republic,  and  there  was  many  a  fierce  contest  in 
its  narrow,  winding  streets. 


CHAPTER  X 

DOWN  THE  YANGTSE 

AFTER  the  toilsome  life  of  the  last  three  months 
it  was  good  to  look  forward  to  ten  days  or  so 
of  laziness,  for  surely  river  travel  may  be  the  most 
luxurious  of  any  sort  of  journeying,  and  even  a 
humble  native  boat  on  the  Yangtse  affords  many 
delights.  You  make  yourself  comfortable  with  your 
own  bed  and  chair,  stop  at  your  pleasure,  go  as  you 
choose,  without  hurry  and  without  noise  through 
charmingly  varied  scenery,  now  soft  and  cultivated, 
now  wild  and  grand. 

My  own  little  apartment  occupied  the  middle  of 
the  boat,  screened  off  with  mats  and  curtains  from 
the  ends  occupied  by  the  boat  people  and  my  men, 
and  though  it  was  necessarily  a  thoroughfare,  my 
privacy  was  always  respected  and  no  one  attempted 
to  enter  without  permission.  By  an  ingenious  ar- 
rangement of  the  mat  roof  I  could  lie  at  ease  on  my 
camp-bed  and  watch  the  shores  slip  past,  but  toward 
evening  when  the  sun  was  setting,  I  often  sat  out  on 
the  extreme  prow  of  the  boat  where  I  could  enjoy  the 
full  sweep  of  the  view  up  and  down.  Liu,  the  cook, 


DOWN  THE  YANGTSE  203 

had  provided  himself  with  a  little  cement  cooking 
arrangement  on  which  he  prepared  me  very  savoury 
messes.  He  and  the  Yunnan  coolie  and  the  inter- 
preter and  the  boat  people  all  chummed  together  very 
amicably,  and  I  was  impressed  again,  as  so  many 
times  before,  by  the  essential  democracy  of  China. 
The  interpreter  was  several  pegs  above  the  others, 
socially,  but  he  showed  no  objection  at  going  in  with 
them,  and  more  than  once,  when  the  inns  were 
crowded,  took  up  his  quarters  with  the  coolies,  but 
—  he  always  got  well  waited  upon.  Nor  was  the  cap- 
tain's wife  kept  in  seclusion  (it  would  have  been 
hard,  indeed,  to  get  it  in  a  thirty-foot  wu-pan),  but  all 
day  long  I  could  hear  her  chatting  with  the  men  in 
cheerful  give-and-take  fashion. 

By  the  way,  the  name  which  Europeans  give  to 
the  river  down  which  I  was  floating,  the  Min,  is 
quite  unknown  to  the  Chinese,  and  it  may  have  ori- 
ginated with  the  Jesuits,  the  first  men  from  the  West 
to  make  their  home  in  Szechuan.  By  the  natives 
the  river  is  sometimes  called  the  "Fu"  because  of 
the  three  "  fu  "  towns  on  its  banks,  Chengtu,  Chia- 
ting,  and  Suifu,  and  sometimes  they  speak  of  it 
as  the  Ta-kiang,  regarding  it  as  the  upper  waters  of 
the  Yangtse. 

Below  Chia-ting  the  river,  by  whatever  name  called, 
flows  through  a  smiling,  open  country,  with  gently 
varied  scenery.  The  soft  slopes  on  either  hand  were 


204  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

richly  cultivated  with  maize  and  rape,  and  nameless 
little  villages,  picturesque  with  black  timbered  houses 
and  red  temples,  peeped  out  of  groves  of  banyan  and 
bamboo  and  orange.  Then  the  hills  closed  in  on  the 
river  and  the  current  ran  like  a  millrace.  Often  a 
promontory  was  crowned  with  one  of  the  many- 
storied  white  "chuman"  pagodas  of  Szechuan,  while 
in  the  face  of  a  cliff  I  could  now  and  then  discern 
openings  which  I  knew  were  the  famous,  mysterious 
cave-dwellings  of  a  bygone  time  and  an  unknown 
people  found  all  about  Chia-ting.  I  visited  one  that 
had  been  converted  into  a  miniature  temple,  and 
there  are  several  in  one  of  the  mission  compounds. 
I  believe  they  are  known  only  in  this  region.  They 
have  been  excavated  by  an  expert  hand,  showing 
traces,  it  is  thought,  of  Indian  influence.  Much  con- 
jecture has  been  expended  upon  them,  and  as  yet 
there  is  no  advance  upon  Baber's  conclusion  "  that 
these  excavations  are  of  unknown  date,  and  have 
been  undertaken  for  unexplained  purposes,  by  a 
people  of  doubtful  identity." 

As  the  river  was  now  high,  the  current  carried  us 
along  at  a  good  speed,  but  I  was  in  no  hurry  and  we 
made  many  stops,  when  I  got  out  to  stretch  my  legs 
along  the  bank.  At  night  we  always  tied  up,  and  it 
took  some  effort  to  secure  a  place  to  the  liking  of  us 
all.  I  wanted  air  and  quiet,  but  the  desire  of  my  boat 
people  was  set  on  a  chance  to  go  a-marketing  or  to 


DOWN  THE  YANGTSE  205 

do  a  little  visiting.  Sometimes  I  got  what  I  wished, 
sometimes  they  did,  but  they  did  their  best,  I  think, 
to  gratify  my  strange  whims. 

One  night  when  they  had  their  way  and  we  were 
tied  up  to  a  shingle  alongside  some  forty  or  fifty 
junks  and  small  craft,  we  had  all  to  turn  out  on  a 
grand  hunt  for  the  "tailless  one"  who  had  gone 
astray.  As  soon  as  the  plank  was  down,  I  went 
ashore  followed  by  the  dogs.  As  it  grew  dark  I  sat 
down  on  a  rock  not  far  away,  and  Jack  curled  up  by 
me,  but  the  other  one  went  back  to  the  boat.  Pre- 
sently I  saw  the  men  come  ashore  and  walk  up  and 
down  swinging  their  paper  lanterns  and  sending  out 
long,  loud  cries.  The  little  dog  was  missing,  and  they 
were  afraid  he  was  being  kept  concealed  on  one  of 
the  other  boats,  for,  so  they  said,  people  liked  to  steal 
little  dogs.  I  asked  if  they  thought  it  would  help  if  I 
went  with  them  along  the  beach  and  they  called  out 
that  I  was  looking  for  the  dog.  They  were  sure  it 
would,  so  we  paraded  up  and  down  the  long  line  of 
junks,  flashing  out  our  lanterns  while  the  men  called, 
not  to  the  junk  people,  for  "face"  must  be  saved,  but 
to  the  little  dog  himself,  "O  tailless  one,  come  home, 
O  tailless  one,  come  home,  the  foreign  devil  is  seek- 
ing thee."  And  presently  there  was  a  joyful  shout 
from  our  boat.  The  "tailless  one  "  had  come  walking 
up  the  gangplank,  quietly  returned  under  cover  of 
darkness.  The  men  were  immensely  pleased,  and 


206  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

said  it  was  all  due  to  me ;  the  people  were  afraid  to 
steal  from  a  foreigner. 

Three  days  after  leaving  Chia-ting,  we  came  in 
sight  of  Suifu,  most  picturesquely  set  on  a  rocky 
slope  at  the  junction  of  the  Min  and  the  Yangtse. 
But  how  changed  was  the  Great  River  since  I  crossed 
it  at  Lung-kai,  four  hundred  miles  to  the  west.  There 
it  dashed  furiously  along,  dammed  in  between  preci- 
pitous cliffs  and  fretted  to  foam  by  rocky  reefs.  Now 
it  flowed  broad  and  deep  and  quiet  between  soft 
wooded  banks,  bearing  many  craft  on  its  strong 
current. 

The  streets  of  the  prosperous  city  of  Suifu,  the 
starting-point  of  all  overland  traffic  to  Yunnan,  are 
broad  and  attractive,  and  there  was  a  great  display 
of  fruit  and  vegetables  in  the  open  shops,  but  it  needs 
much  faith  in  the  cleansing  power  of  boiling  to  over- 
look the  sights  of  the  river  front  where  vegetables 
and  feet  are  washed  side  by  side,  while  as  to  the  fruit, 
that  had  been  gathered  green,  as  is  so  often  the  case 
in  China,  why  I  could  not  learn.  Some  said  the  Chi- 
nese preferred  it  so,  others  that  if  it  were  kept  on  the 
trees  it  would  be  stolen  long  before  it  ripened.  But 
to  tell  the  truth,  the  goodness  of  Chinese  fruit  seems 
to  be  all  on  the  outside.  I  never  saw  finer-looking 
peaches  than  in  Szechuan,  but  they  proved  worm- 
riddled  and  tasteless.  Apparently  all  that  the  Chinese 
can  teach  themselves  has  been  learned,  in  fruit-grow- 


DOWN  THE  YANGTSE  207 

ing  as  well  as  in  other  things.  Now  if  they  are  to  ad- 
vance they  must  begin  to  borrow,  and  much  else 
besides  money.  I  was  glad  to  learn  that  one  of  the 
American  missionaries  at  Ya-chou  is  in  close  touch 
with  the  Department  of  Agriculture  at  Washington 
on  a  basis  of  give  and  take  that  ought  to  be  to  the 
advantage  of  both  sides. 

We  covered  the  distance  of  nearly  two  hundred 
miles  between  Suifu  and  Chung-king  in  good  time  ; 
the  weather  was  favourable,  and  the  river  now  ran 
so  high  that  the  troublesome  rapids  had  disappeared. 
The  scenery  was  charming  as  ever,  but  I  was  weary- 
ing of  inactivity  and  it  was  a  relief  to  see  the  cren- 
ellated walls  of  Chung-king  come  in  sight.  I  paid  off 
my  boatmen,  who  had  lived  up  to  their  agreement 
(not  written  this  time)  in  every  particular,  and  in  an 
hour  I  had  ferried  across  the  river  and  found  myself 
once  more  being  carried  over  the  steep  hills  that  here 
form  the  south  shore  of  the  Yangtse,  to  meet  a  kind 
welcome  from  the  friends  of  friends  to  their  charming 
summer  refuge  high  above  the  depressing  heat  of  the 
Yangtse  valley. 

Chung-king,  which  has  been  dubbed  the  Chicago 
of  West  China,  —  Hankow  claims  the  name  in  East 
China,  — is  one  of  a  trio  of  cities  that  cluster  around  the 
junction  of  theChia-tingand  the  Yangtse,  and  it  is  eas- 
ily the  chief,  with  a  population  of  close  on  half  a  million. 
The  approach  from  upstream  is  very  striking,  a  grey 


208  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

city  perched  on  a  huge  grey  reef  and  enclosed  in  a 
strong,  crenellated  grey  wall.  The  narrow  strip  of 
shore  outside  the  walls  is  filled  with  poor,  rickety 
buildings  easily  removed  when  the  river  rises  or  as 
easily  swept  away  if  not  taken  down  in  time.  Broad, 
steep  flights  of  steps  lead  up  from  the  river  to  the 
city  gates,  and  over  these  stairs  all  the  water  used  by 
hundreds  of  thousands  is  carried  in  buckets. 

In  1895  Chung-king  was  declared  open  as  a  treaty 
port,  and  since  then  its  commerce  has  grown  in  true 
modern  fashion  by  leaps  and  bounds,  and  there  seems 
no  limit  to  its  development,  for  it  is  in  a  position  to 
control  the  up-country  trade.  The  fleets  of  junks  lie 
closely  packed  three  deep  along  the  shore,  and  within 
the  walls  the  multiplying  thousands  are  even  more 
densely  crowded,  for  the  room  to  expand  is  set  by  the 
limits  of  the  great  rock  on  which  Chung-king  stands, 
and  apparently  every  square  foot  of  land  within  or 
without  the  city  is  already  occupied  by  the  living  or 
the  dead.  Nowhere  did  I  see  such  crowded  streets, 
and  nowhere  missionaries  living  in  such  cramped 
quarters  as  in  Chung-king,  a  confinement  all  the 
more  unendurable  because  of  the  long  months  of 
damp  heat. 

The  large  foreign  community  of  Chung-king  has 
many  elements,  missionary,  merchant,  and  officials 
of  the  customs,  post-office,  and  consular  services.  And 
lying  in  the  river  opposite  the  city  are  generally  Eng- 


DOWN  THE  YANGTSE  209 

lish,  French,  or  German  gunboats.  The  relations  be- 
tween all  these  seem  more  cordial  and  helpful  than  in 
some  treaty  ports.  So,  too,  Europeans  and  Chinese 
are  on  an  unwontedly  friendly  footing  in  Chung-king ; 
perhaps  something  may  be  due  to  the  fine  standard 
set  in  the  mercantile  community  by  that  pioneer 
trader,  Archibald  Little,  who  boldly  established  him- 
self here  eight  years  before  the  town  was  made  a 
treaty  port.  And  on  the  Chinese  side  there  seemed 
readiness  to  appreciate  what  the  West  has  to  offer ; 
in  fact  the  town  has  a  distinctly  go-ahead  air.  It  has 
already  held  one  commercial  exhibition  on  Western 
lines,  and  is  planning  another,  and  it  is  now  lighted 
by  electricity,  boasting  the  best  plant  west  of  Shang- 
hai, which  it  sets  up  against  Chengtu's  mint  and  ar- 
senal. There  is,  in  fact,  a  real  Western  flavour  about 
the  rivalry  of  the  two  Szechuan  cities,  recalling  the 
relations  of  Chicago  and  St.  Louis. 

As  a  purely  trading  centre  Chung-king  lacks  some 
of  the  interest  of  the  capital,  but  the  merchant  class, 
the  backbone  of  China,  is  well  represented  here,  and 
is  famed  for  its  intelligence  and  initiative.  Through 
the  kindness  of  Mr.  Warburton  Davidson,  of  the 
Friends'  Mission,  I  was  given  a  chance  to  meet  mem- 
bers of  this  class,  and  also  to  see  something  of  a  very 
interesting  experiment  he  had  recently  started.  Real- 
izing the  importance  of  making  known  to  this  influ- 
ential element  the  best  that  Christian  civilization  has 


210  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

to  offer,  but  well  aware  of  the  difficulty,  indeed,  the 
impossibility,  of  meeting  them  through  the  ordinary 
channels  of  missionary  effort,  Mr.  Davidson  hit  upon 
the  idea  of  starting  a  social  club  where  men  of  stand- 
ing, Christian  and  non-Christian,  European  as  well 
as  Chinese,  might  mingle  on  an  equal  footing.  The 
plan  proved  successful  from  the  start.  Largely  through 
the  interest  of  a  Chinese  gentleman  of  Chung-king  an 
attractive  house  has  been  put  up  and  equipped  with 
newspapers,  books,  games,  and  the  beginnings  of  a 
museum,  and  here  in  the  reading  and  recreation  rooms 
some  of  the  best  business  men  of  the  city  meet  for 
social  intercourse,  discussions,  and  occasionally  a  lec- 
ture on  such  up-to-date  subjects  as  X-rays,  tubercu- 
losis, and,  very  recently,  the  American  Constitution. 
It  is  now  open  every  day  and  evening  except  Sunday, 
and  already  it  is  making  itself  felt  in  the  life  of  the 
city. 

Mr.  Davidson  kindly  planned  for  me  to  visit  the 
Friends'  Institute,  as  the  club  is  called,  and  to  meet 
some  of  the  Chinese  committee  by  which  it  is  man- 
aged, for  very  wisely  things  are  left  as  far  as  possi- 
ble in  the  hands  of  the  natives.  For  two  hours  or 
more  I  had  the  pleasure  of  talking  with  these  gentle- 
men, and  I  was  much  impressed  with  their  keen  in- 
terest in  outside  matters.  All  were  of  a  type  new  to 
me,  quiet,  dignified,  interested,  with  the  fine  manners 
of  the  Chinese  gentleman,  but  without  the  rather 


DOWN  THE  YANGTSE  211 

lackadaisical  superciliousness  of  some  officials,  nor 
was  there  anything  Western  about  them ;  they  were 
not  copying  Europe,  but  learning  how  to  be  a  new, 
fine  sort  of  Chinese.  Among  those  whom  I  met  were 
Mr.  Yang,  president  of  the  Institute,  and  a  prominent 
business  man  of  Chung-king,  and  Mr.  Cheo,  the 
elderly  head  of  the  Chinese  Imperial  Telegraph,  who 
has  now  been  succeeded  by  another  member  whom  I 
also  met.  When  I  left  they  all  escorted  me  most 
courteously  to  my  chair,  the  passers-by  stopping  to 
gape  with  surprise.  So  far  as  I  know  the  club  is  a  new 
departure  in  mission  work,  and  most  worthy  of  sup- 
port as  a  rational  and  hopeful  method  of  presenting 
the  best  of  Christian  civilization  to  a  class  often  re- 
pelled by  missionary  propaganda. 

In  Chung-king  I  parted  with  the  faithful  coolie 
who  had  come  with  me  all  the  way  from  Yunnan-fu. 
As  carrier  or  as  cook's  helper  he  had  worked  well ; 
indeed,  on  more  than  one  occasion  he  had  cooked 
my  dinner  when  Liu  was  under  the  weather,  and  he 
had  become  so  dexterous  in  waiting  on  the  table  that 
he  had  grown  ambitious  and  was  now  looking  out 
for  a  place  in  a  restaurant.  I  wrote  him  a  "chit,"  or 
letter  of  recommendation,  which  I  hope  served  his 
purpose  if  he  could  get  any  one  to  read  it.  At  least  I 
made  it  look  as  imposing  as  possible.  How  would  the 
wheels  go  round  in  the  East  without  "  chits  "  ?  You 
are  called  upon  to  write  them  for  every  sort  of  person 


212  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

and  every  kind  of  service  or  none.  On  one  occasion 
the  recovery  of  a  stolen  necklace  brought  upon  my 
head  demands  for  a  whole  sheaf  of  letters,  every  one 
concerned,  no  matter  how  remotely,  wanted  one,  — 
hotel  proprietor  (it  was  at  a  hotel  that  the  affair  oc- 
curred), hotel  manager,  clerk,  servants,  chief  of  police, 
ordinary  policemen.  Finally  in  desperation  I  offered 
one  to  the  thief  for  allowing  himself  to  be  caught  so 
promptly.  But  I  think  the  strangest  one  I  was  ever 
called  upon  to  write  was  for  a  tiger-tamer  in  the 
employ  of  an  Indian  rajah.  I  protested  I  knew  no- 
thing about  such  things,  but  he  would  not  take  no, 
and  as  he  had  reduced  the  big  brute  that  he  brought 
to  my  bungalow  to  the  point  of  drinking  milk  from  a 
china  bowl  that  I  put  before  him,  I  agreed  to  recom- 
mend him  as  a  trainer  of  tigers.  But  for  my  Yunnan 
coolie  I  wrote  a  good  letter  most  willingly  in  spite  of 
the  fact  that  he  was  a  confirmed  opium-smoker  ;  in 
all  the  long  journey  that  he  made  with  me  I  could 
not  see  that  it  weakened  his  wits  or  his  muscles.  I 
was  told  that  such  journeyings  were  not  at  all  uncom- 
mon, the  coolies  taking  work  wherever  offered,  and 
going  on  and  on  as  new  jobs  turned  up.  With  all  its 
shortcomings  the  Manchu  Government  did  not  make 
the  blunder  of  imposing  artificial  restraints  upon  the 
movements  of  the  people,  and  since  no  passports  were 
required  within  the  empire,  men  could  come  and  go  at 
their  own  will.  The  part  of  the  commercial  traveller 


DOWN  THE  YANGTSE  213 

in  creating  the  American  nation  has  been  noted. 
Who  can  tell  what  the  Chinese  coolie  is  doing  in  the 
same  way? 

At  Chung-king  I  had  to  arrange  for  the  trip  down 
the  river.  I  might  take  passage  on  the  wonderful  new 
steamer  plying  with  some  regularity  between  the  city 
and  Ichang ;  but  that  went  too  fast  for  my  liking,  be- 
sides giving  me  no  chance  to  go  ashore.  Or  I  might 
engage  a  houseboat ;  but  at  this  season  of  the  year 
the  charges  were  high,  as  it  might  be  weeks  before 
the  return  trip  could  be  made,  and  one  hundred  taels 
was  the  best  rate  offered.  So  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
"  nobody  travelled  that  way/1  or  perhaps  because  of 
it,  I,  being  a  nobody,  decided  to  try  the  humble  wu- 
pan  again,  and  through  the  efforts  of  one  of  the 
Christian  helpers  in  the  Friends'  Mission  I  secured  a 
very  comfortable  boat  to  take  me  and  my  reduced 
following  to  Ichang  for  twenty-five  dollars  Mexican. 
The  boat  was  all  that  could  be  desired,  and  the  cap- 
tain, or  "lao-pan,"  proved  skilful  and  obliging,  but 
unfortunately  he  was  not,  as  is  usually  the  case,  the 
owner  of  the  boat,  and  still  more  unfortunately,  one 
of  the  owners,  a  rather  old  man,  was  serving  with  the 
crew.  Nothing  happened,  but  I  had  at  times  an  un- 
comfortable feeling  that  nobody  was  in  authority  over 
any  one. 

I  started  down  the  river  at  noon  on  a  fine  day  at 
the  end  of  June,  and  a  little  over  forty-eight  hours 


214  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

brought  us  to  Kwei-fu  at  the  head  of  the  gorges.  For 
the  most  part  it  was  a  country  of  soft  undulating 
slopes  and  comfortable  farmhouses,  with  here  and 
there  a  little  hamlet  or  a  bustling  town,  framed  the  last 
part  of  the  way  by  strange-looking  pyramidal  hills. 
On  we  went,  hurried  along  by  the  strong  current, 
stopping  for  an  hour's  marketing  at  Foo-chou  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Kung-tan  Ho,  navigable  for  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  by  boats  of  strange  shape  known 
as  the  "  Crooked  Sterns,"  and  again  at  Wan-hsien, 
famous  for  its  cypress- wood  junks,  then  on  past  the 
City  of  the  Cloudy  Sun,  attractive  with  broad  streets 
and  lovely  temples,  past  the  Mountain  of  the  Em- 
peror of  Heaven,  where  for  a  few  cash  you  may  have 
a  pass  direct  to  Paradise,  past  Precious  Stone  Castle, 
a  curious  rock  three  hundred  feet  high  standing  out 
boldly  from  the  shore  and  surmounted  by  a  temple 
which  contains  gruesome  paintings  of  the  horrors  of 
hell,  through  the  Goddess  of  Mercy  Rapid  and  the 
Glorious  Dragon  Rapid,  and  several  smaller  ones 
that  I  did  not  even  know  were  rapids,  for  with  the 
high  water  these  tend  to  disappear,  while  wicked- 
looking  bays  of  swirling  water  showed  the  peculiar 
danger  of  the  summer,  the  great  whirlpools.  The 
nights  were  very  hot,  and  all  our  efforts  did  not  avail 
to  get  the  air  which  alone  could  make  sleep  possible. 
Before  this  the  mosquitoes  had  given  little  trouble, 
but  now  they  sang  outside  my  net  all  night  long, 


DOWN  THE  YANGTSE  215 

while  the  poor,  unprotected  boatmen,  robbed  of  their 
hard-earned  sleep,  kept  up  an  accompaniment  of 
slapping  on  the  other  side  of  the  curtain.  The  river 
was  falling  again,  leaving  long  stretches  of  mudbank 
over  which  I  had  to  clamber  if  I  tried  to  leave  the 
boat  for  a  little  change,  but  I  always  managed  to  go 
on  shore  for  a  while  when  the  men  were  cooking  and 
eating  their  supper.  They  took  an  interminable  time 
over  it,  and  I  never  could  see  why  they  did  not  burn 
us  all  up,  for  their  cooking  was  done  in  the  tiny  hold 
in  an  unprotected  brazier.  In  fact,  we  did  catch  fire 
one  day,  but  of  course  there  was  plenty  of  water  at 
hand. 

The  third  day  about  noon  we  tied  up  for  a  short 
time  to  cook  some  sort  of  a  meal,  and  the  rain  com- 
ing on,  the  captain  thought  it  best  to  wait.  To  escape 
the  bad  air  of  the  boat,  where  all  the  mattings  were 
down,  I  sat  under  an  umbrella  on  the  bank.  A  huge 
junk  slowly  pulling  upstream  moored  close  at  hand, 
and  I  watched  with  interest  the  trackers  making  fast. 
They  were  men  of  all  ages  and  sizes,  but  mostly 
young  and  well  grown.  Their  naked  bodies  were  well 
developed  and  muscular,  but  often  cut  or  scarred  with 
falling  on  the  rocks.  Having  made  all  secure  they 
too  got  under  cover  on  the  junk,  and  fell  to  eating, 
naked  and  wet  as  they  were.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I 
sat  for  hours  on  that  mudbank  while  the  rain  fell  in 
torrents  and  the  river  rose  higher  and  higher,  for  the 


216  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

changes  in  level  are  extraordinarily  rapid.  It  was 
almost  dark  before  we  could  set  off  again,  and  then 
we  got  no  farther  than  Kwei-fu,  the  trackers'  Para- 
dise. Perhaps  that  was  the  reason  why  we  could  not 
start  the  next  morning,  but  I  fancy  it  was  the  truth 
that  the  water  was  too  high  to  be  safe,  for  there  were 
double  rows  of  junks  moored  under  the  walls  of 
Kwei-fu,  and  I  saw  no  boats  starting  down.  When 
the  water  covers  the  great  rock  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Windbox  Gorge,  two  miles  down  the  river,  the  au- 
thorities forbid  all  passing  through.  And  anyway 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  make  the  best  of  it. 

Kwei-fu  is  a  pleasant-looking  town  set  in  maize- 
fields  which  grow  quite  up  to  the  walls.  A  few  years 
ago  it  was  notorious  for  its  hostility  to  foreigners.  No 
missionaries  were  admitted,  and  when  Mrs.  Bird 
Bishop  came  this  way  in  1897  she  did  not  attempt  to 
go  inside  the  town.  Now  all  is  changed ;  the  China 
Inland  Mission  has  a  station  here,  and  I  went  about 
freely.  But  I  did  not  see  much  of  Kwei-fu,  as  I  pre- 
ferred to  enjoy  that  Paradise  from  afar ;  so  we  pulled 
a  little  way  downstream,  tying  up  near  some  maize- 
fields  in  which  I  promptly  got  really  lost,  so  tall  and 
thick  was  the  growth. 

The  next  morning  dawned  clear,  and  the  lao-pan 
declared  we  could  start,  as  the  water  was  falling,  but 
he  professed  unwillingness  to  take  me  through  the 
dreaded  Hei  Shi  Tan,  or  "  Black  Rock  Rapid,"  near 


DOWN  THE  YANGTSE  217 

the  western  end  of  the  first  gorge ;  so  I  carried  two 
two-carrier  chairs  for  myself  and  the  interpreter,  pay- 
ing one  thousand  cash  for  thirty  li.  At  starting,  the 
road  made  a  bend  away  from  the  river,  passing 
through  a  succession  of  hamlets,  the  homes  of  the 
trackers.  Leaving  my  men  at  a  tea-house  I  walked 
on,  following  a  well-made  path  which  led  me  finally 
into  the  White  Emperor's  Temple,  beautifully  set  on 
the  very  edge  of  an  angle  of  the  cliff,  affording  won- 
derful views  down  the  gorge.  It  was  clean  and  light, 
and  the  priests  who  came  to  greet  me  in  the  usual 
kindly  Buddhist  fashion  had  rather  nice  faces.  It  was 
a  place  to  dream  away  a  glorious  day.  At  our  feet 
the  rippling  water  just  revealed  the  dreaded  Goose- 
tail  Rock,  now  almost  submerged,  but  in  winter  stand- 
ing like  a  sentinel  forty  feet  tall  at  the  mouth  of  the 
gorge ;  and  over  our  heads  towered,  on  both  sides  the 
narrow  waterway,  grey  vertical  cliffs,  fifteen  hundred 
to  two  thousand  feet  high.  I  hated  to  leave,  but  as  I 
had  plainly  lost  my  way  there  was  nothing  to  do  but 
go  back  and  seek  to  overtake  the  men  who  were 
pounding  along  on  the  right  path,  trying  to  come  up 
with  me. 

It  is  here  that  the  great  Szechuan  road  begins,  a 
pathway  galleried  into  the  solid  rock  for  the  whole 
length  of  the  gorge  at  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  above  the  winter  level  of  the  river.  It  is  a  fine 
piece  of  road,  the  gift,  I  believe,  of  a  rich  Kwei-chou 


2i8  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

merchant.  The  surprising  thing,  of  course,  is  not  that 
it  is  good  —  the  Chinese  have  built  many  good  roads 
—  but  that  it  is  new.  At  present  it  stops  at  the 
Szechuan  frontier,  but  there  is  talk  of  extending  it 
across  Hupeh. 

The  day  and  a  half  that  I  spent  in  going  through 
the  gorges  of  the  Yangtse  were  the  most  exhausting 
part  of  my  whole  trip  ;  from  the  mere  strain  of  seeing 
and  feeling,  one's  senses  were  all  the  time  on  the  rack. 
Scenes  of  overpowering  savagery  and  grandeur  that 
held  one  spellbound,  were  relieved  by  beautiful  bits  of 
cultivation,  little  hamlets  of  brown  houses  and  red 
temples  half  concealed  in  groves  of  golden  bamboo 
and  the  glossy  green  of  orange  trees ;  moments  when 
the  boatmen  lounged  on  the  deck  or  hung  exhausted 
over  their  oars  were  followed  by  grief,  fierce  struggles 
against  the  dreadful  force  of  a  whirlpool  that  threat- 
ened to  engulf  us. 

But,  after  all,  that  which  most  often  comes  back  to 
me  as  I  recall  those  days  is  the  feeling  of  the  ruthless 
human  will  grappling  with  nature  and  winning  the 
mastery.  Who  can  call  China  aged  and  in  decay  face 
to  face  with  her  success  in  conquering  a  passage  up 
these  gorges  ?  Who  can  question  the  vitality  of  the 
Chinese,  that  has  watched  the  trackers  at  work  pull- 
ing a  huge  junk  against  a  current  like  the  rapids  of 
Niagara,  clambering  over  wet,  rough  boulders,  creep- 
ing like  cats  along  a  thread  of  a  trail  overhanging  the 


DOWN  THE  YANGTSE  219 

gulf,  clinging  to  the  face  of  rocks  that  do  not  seem  to 
offer  a  foothold  to  a  mountain  goat,  and  all  the  time 
straining  with  every  muscle  at  a  thousand-foot  rope. 
An  inhuman  task  where  men  take  great  risks  for  a 
pittance,  where  death  by  drowning  or  by  being  dashed 
to  pieces  on  the  rocks  confronts  them  at  every  turn, 
and  where,  at  best,  strains  and  exposure  bring  an 
early  end.  In  my  dreams  I  see  them,  the  long  lines 
of  naked  men,  their  strong  bodies  shining  with  wet 
and  bleeding  from  many  a  cut,  keeping  time  in  a 
wild  chant  as  they  tug  at  the  taut  line ;  a  rope  breaks 
and  the  toil  of  hours  is  lost ;  one  misstep  and  a  life 
has  ended. 

But  this  is  the  sole  highway  to  Szechuan ;  all  the 
trade  of  China's  largest  province,  the  one  best  en- 
dowed by  nature,  must  pass  up  and  down  here.  Any 
people  less  prodigal  of  their  strength,  less  determined 
and  less  resourceful  than  the  Chinese,  would  have 
given  up  the  struggle  before  it  was  begun,  and 
Szechuan  would  have  slumbered  undeveloped  and 
forgotten,  instead  of  being  as  it  is  now  the  richest 
and  most  advanced  part  of  the  empire. 

And  the  next  step  is  assured;  before  many  years 
have  passed,  a  railway  will  connect  the  western  capi- 
tal with  Wan-hsien  and  Hankow,  the  deserted  gorges 
will  no  longer  reecho  the  cries  of  the  trackers,  and 
the  upward  trip  that  now  takes  six  weeks  will  be  a 
matter  of  two  or  three  days.  It  will  be  a  different 


220  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

Szechuan  then,  with  its  resources  exploited,  with 
mines  and  factories,  good  roads  and  fine  hotels,  a 
power  in  the  world's  market,  the  goal  of  the  tourist, 
and  —  I  am  glad  I  saw  Szechuan  before  the  railway 
came. 


CHAPTER  XI 

FROM  THE  GREAT  RIVER  TO  THE  GREAT  WALL 

A"  Ichang,  a  thousand  miles  from  Shanghai,  I 
met  the  West,  modern  comforts,  bad  manners, 
and  all.  Situated  at  the  eastern  end  of  the  gorges, 
this  town  of  thirty  thousand  Chinese  inhabitants  and 
a  handful  of  Europeans  is  just  where  all  the  mer- 
chandise going  upstream  must  be  shifted  from  the 
light-draft  steamers  of  the  lower  Yangtse  to  the  native 
junks  of  forty  to  a  hundred  tons  which  are  still  the 
only  freight  boats  that  venture  regularly  through  the 
rapids  and  whirlpools  of  the  upper  waters  of  the  Great 
River.  So  the  water  front  of  Ichang  is  a  busy  scene 
at  all  times,  and  in  the  winter  season  the  boats  are 
packed  together  sardine  fashion.  When  the  railway 
is  put  through,  all  the  river  traffic  will  cease,  but 
Ichang  proposes  to  control  the  new  route  as  it  has 
the  old,  and  already  an  imposing  station  has  been 
completed,  even  though  only  a  few  miles  of  iron  rail 
have  been  laid  down. 

I  shifted  my  belongings  directly  from  the  wu-pan 
to  the  Kweilu,  a  Butterfield  &  Swire  boat  leaving 
the  same  evening.  It  was  very  comfortable,  although 
crowded,  as  everything  seems  to  be  in  China.  Ichang 
stands  at  the  extreme  eastern  edge  of  the  tangle  of 


222  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

mountains  that  stretch  across  Szechuan  to  the  Tibetan 
plateau,  and  just  below  this  point  the  scenery  changes, 
the  hills  dwindle,  and  the  valley  opens  into  the  wide 
flat  plains  of  the  lower  Yangtse.  It  is  a  merciful  ar- 
rangement, allowing  the  eyes  and  brain  a  chance  to 
recover  their  tone  after  the  strain  of  trying  to  take  in 
the  wonders  of  the  gorges,  and  I  was  glad  for  the 
open,  vacant  land,  thankful  that  there  was  nothing 
to  look  at. 

The  second  morning  in  the  early  dawn  we  moored 
off  Hankow,  where  I  planned  to  stay  a  day  or  two 
before  turning  northward.  Hankow,  Hanyang,  Wu- 
chang, these  three  cities  lie  at  the  junction  of  the  Han 
and  the  Yangtse,  having,  all  told,  a  population  of 
some  two  millions.  Located  on  the  Yangtse,  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Han,  one  of  the  great  waterways  of 
China,  halfway  between  Shanghai  and  Ichang,  and  a 
little  more  than  halfway  from  Peking  to  Canton,  and 
at  present  the  terminus  of  the  Peking  railway,  which 
in  good  time  will  be  extended  to  Canton,  the  future 
of  these  cities  is  assured.  Each  of  the  three  has  some 
special  claim  to  preeminence,  but  the  greatest  of  them 
is  Hankow.  Hanyang's  chimneys  are  preparing  to 
rival  those  of  Bombay,  and  it  boasts  the  largest  iron- 
works in  China.  Wuchang  is  the  provincial  capital, 
and  the  seat  of  the  viceroy  or  governor,  as  it  hap- 
pens, and  its  mint  and  arsenal  are  the  most  import- 
ant in  the  south,  while  Hankow  is  the  trading  centre, 


GREAT   RIVER  TO   GREAT  WALL    223 

and  the  headquarters  of  the  great  banking  and  ship- 
ping concerns. 

When  I  was  there  in  early  July  of  last  year  I  no- 
ticed only  the  look  of  substantial  prosperity  about 
the  place,  and  the  comfortable  bustle  and  stir  in  the 
streets.  Chinese  and  Europeans  alike  seemed  intent 
on  making  money,  pound-wise  or  cash-wise.  The  one 
matter  of  concern  was  the  high  water  in  the  river, 
here  nearly  a  mile  wide.  Already  it  was  almost  up  to 
the  top  of  the  "  bund  "  ;  a  few  inches  more  and  it  would 
flood  the  lowland,  destroying  life  and  property,  and 
stopping  all  business.  There  were  no  outward  signs 
of  commotion  underneath,  but  in  about  three  months 
the  viceroy's  yamen  was  in  flames,  shops  and  offices 
were  looted,  and  the  mint  and  arsenal  in  the  hands 
of  the  Revolutionary  party.  One  stroke  had  put  it  in 
possession  of  a  large  amount  of  treasure,  military 
stores,  and  a  commanding  position. 

I  planned  to  stay  in  Hankow  just  long  enough  to 
pack  a  box  for  England,  and  efface  a  few  of  the  scars 
of  inland  travel  before  confronting  whatever  society 
might  be  found  in  Peking  in  midsummer,  but  rather 
to  my  dismay  I  found  the  weekly  express  train  left 
the  day  after  my  arrival.  It  was  out  of  the  question 
to  take  that,  and  apparently  I  would  have  to  wait 
over  a  week  unless  I  dared  try  the  ordinary  train  that 
ran  daily,  stopping  two  nights  on  the  road.  But  there 
seemed  many  lions  in  the  way.  It  would  be  quite  im- 


224  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

possible  to  go  by  this  train  unless  I  could  take  all  my 
things  into  the  carriage  with  me ;  nothing  was  safe  in 
the  luggage  van.  It  would  be  a  long  and  tedious 
journey,  and  I  could  get  nothing  to  eat  on  the  way, 
and  of  course  it  would  be  impossible  to  put  up  at 
Chinese  inns  at  night.  But  face  the  Eastern  lions  and 
they  generally  turn  to  kittens.  Travelling  by  way 
trains  had  no  terrors  for  me,  it  would  give  me  a 
chance  to  see  the  country,  and  it  was  for  that  I  had 
come  to  China,  and  I  knew  I  could  manage  about 
my  things ;  but  the  Chinese  inn  was  something  of  a 
difficulty,  as  I  was  leaving  interpreter  and  cook  in 
Hankow.  I  jumped  into  a  rickshaw  and  by  good  luck 
found  the  genial  superintendent,  M.  Didier,  at  the 
station.  Mais  oui,  I  might  stop  in  the  train  at  night ; 
mais  oui,  the  little  dog  could  be  with  me ;  mats  out,  I 
could  certainly  manage  a  trunk  in  my  compartment. 
And  he  did  even  better  than  his  word,  wiring  ahead 
to  the  nights'  stopping-places,  Chu-ma-tien  and 
Chang-te-ho,  and  when  the  train  pulled  in  at  each 
place,  I  was  charmingly  welcomed  by  the  division 
superintendent  with  an  invitation  from  his  wife  to 
put  up  with  them ;  and  so  instead  of  two  nights  in  the 
stuffy  sleeping-compartment  of  the  express  train,  I 
had  two  enjoyable  evenings  in  French  homes,  and 
long  nights  in  a  real  bed.  It  was  indeed  a  bit  of  France 
that  these  delightful  Frenchwomen  had  created  in 
the  plain  of  Central  China ;  books  and  journals,  dogs 


GREAT  RIVER  TO   GREAT  WALL    225 

and  wines  from  home,  and  French  dishes  skilfully 
prepared  by  Chinese  hands.  But  the  houses  where 
they  lived  opened  out  of  the  strongly  walled  station 
enclosure ;  it  would  not  take  long  to  put  it  in  condi- 
tion to  stand  a  siege.  No  one  in  China  forgets  the 
days  of  1900. 

The  train  was  of  the  comfortable  corridor  sort. 
Most  of  the  time  I  was  the  only  European,  and  the 
only  person  in  the  first  class,  but  the  second  and 
especially  the  third  were  crowded  full,  although  the 
passengers  did  not  seem  about  to  flow  out  of  the  win- 
dows, feet  foremost,  as  so  often  on  an  Indian  railway. 
The  Chinese  is  beset  by  many  fears,  superstitious 
fears  or  real  mundane  ones,  but  he  has  the  wit  to 
know  a  good  thing  when  he  sees  it,  and  it  does  not 
take  him  long  to  overcome  any  pet  fear  that  stands 
in  the  way  of  possessing  it.  In  1870  the  first  Chinese 
railway  was  built  by  the  great  shipowners  of  the 
East,  Jardine,  Mattheson  &  Co.  It  was  only  twelve 
miles  long,  connecting  Shanghai  with  Woosung.  At 
first  there  was  no  trouble,  then  certain  native  inter- 
ests, fearing  the  competition,  stirred  up  the  people 
by  the  usual  methods,  finally  clinching  the  opposi- 
tion by  a  suicide  (hired)  under  a  train  ;  so  in  the  end 
the  Government  bought  out  the  English  firm  and 
dismantled  the  railway.  That  was  forty  years  ago, 
and  to-day  all  that  stands  in  the  way  of  gridironing 
China  with  iron  highways  is  the  lack  of  home  capital 


226  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

and  the  perfectly  reasonable  fear  of  foreign  loans. 
The  Chinese  want  railways,  and  they  want  to  build 
them  themselves,  but  they  have  not  got  the  money, 
and  for  the  moment  they  prefer  to  go  without  rather 
than  put  themselves  in  the  power  of  European  capi- 
talists and  European  governments.  And  who  can 
blame  them  ? 

The  Six  Power  Railway  Loan  of  1908  proved  the 
undoing  of  the  Manchus,  and  the  inevitable  sequence, 
the  appointing  of  European  and  American  engineers, 
—  to  the  American  was  assigned  the  important  sec- 
tion between  Ichang  and  Chengtu,  —  was  bringing 
matters  to  a  head  before  I  left  China.  The  Changsha 
outbreak  in  the  early  summer  was  directed  against 
the  Government's  railway  policy,  represented  for  the 
moment  in  the  newly  appointed  Director  of  Com- 
munications, the  Manchu  Tuan  Fang,  who  visited  the 
United  States  in  1906  as  a  member  of  the  Imperial 
Commission.  Many  will  remember  the  courteous  old 
man,  perhaps  the  most  progressive  of  all  the  Manchu 
leaders.  I  had  hoped  to  meet  him  in  China,  but  on 
inquiring  his  whereabouts  when  in  Shanghai  I  was 
told  that  he  had  been  degraded  from  his  post  as 
Viceroy  of  Nanking  and  was  living  in  retirement.  A 
few  weeks  later  the  papers  were  full  of  his  new  ap- 
pointment, extolling  his  patriotism  in  accepting  an 
office  inferior  to  the  one  from  which  he  had  been  re- 
moved. But  delays  followed,  and  when  the  rioting 


GREAT  RIVER  TO   GREAT  WALL    227 

occurred  in  Changsha  he  had  not  yet  arrived  at  head- 
quarters in  Hankow.  It  was  said  openly  that  he  was 
afraid.  On  my  way  north  the  train  drew  up  one  even- 
ing on  a  siding,  and  when  I  asked  the  reason  I  was 
told  a  special  train  was  going  south  bearing  His 
Excellency  Tuan  Fang  to  his  post.  He  had  just  come 
from  a  conference  at  Chang-te-ho  with  Yuan  Shih 
Kai,  who  was  living  there  in  retirement  nursing  his 
"  gouty  leg."  If  only  one  could  have  heard  that  last 
talk  between  the  two  great  supporters  of  a  falling 
dynasty. 

And  one  went  on  his  way  south  to  take  up  the  im- 
possible task  of  stemming  the  tide  of  revolution,  and 
before  four  months  were  past  he  was  dead,  struck 
down  and  beheaded  by  his  own  soldiers  in  a  little 
Szechuan  town,  while  the  other,  biding  his  time, 
stands  to-day  at  the  head  of  the  new  Republic  of 
the  East. 

The  Lu-Han  railway,  as  the  Peking-Hankow  line 
is  called,  crosses  three  provinces,  Hupeh,  Honan,  and 
Chihli.  Save  for  low  hills  on  the  Hupeh  frontier, 
it  runs  the  whole  way  through  a  flat,  featureless 
country,  cultivated  by  hand,  almost  every  square 
foot  of  it.  Seven  hundred  miles  of  rice-  and  millet- 
fields  and  vegetable  gardens  unbroken  by  wall  or 
hedge;  nothing  to  cast  a  shadow  on  the  dead 
level  except  an  occasional  walled  town  or  temple 
grove!  And  the  horrible  land  was  all  alive  with 


228  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

swarming,  toiling,  ant-hill  humanity.  It  was  a  night- 
mare. 

On  the  second  day  we  reached  the  Hoang  Ho, 
China's  sorrow  and  the  engineer's  despair.  The 
much-discussed  bridge  is  two  miles  long,  crossing 
the  river  on  one  hundred  and  seven  spans.  As  the 
train  moved  at  snail's  pace  there  was  plenty  of  time 
to  take  in  the  desolate  scene,  stretches  of  mudflats 
alternating  with  broad  channels  of  swirling,  turbid 
water ;  and,  unlike  the  Yangtse,  gay  with  all  sorts  of 
craft,  the  strong  current  of  the  Yellow  River  rolled 
along  undisturbed  by  sweep  or  screw. 

Once  across  the  Hoang  Ho  and  you  enter  the  loess 
country,  dear  to  the  tiller  of  the  soil,  but  the  bane  of 
the  traveller,  for  the  dust  is  often  intolerable.  But 
there  was  little  change  in  scenery  until  toward  noon 
of  the  following  day,  when  the  faint,  broken  outlines 
of  hills  appeared  on  the  northern  horizon.  As  we 
were  delayed  by  a  little  accident  it  was  getting  dark 
when  we  rumbled  along  below  the  great  wall  of 
Peking  into  the  noisy  station  alive  with  the  clamour 
of  rickshaw  boys  and  hotel  touts.  In  fifteen  minutes 
I  was  in  my  comfortable  quarters  at  the  H6tel  des 
Wagons  Lits,  keen  for  the  excitement  of  the  first 
view  of  one  of  the  world's  great  historic  capitals. 

Peking  is  set  in  the  middle  of  the  large  plain  that 
stretches  one  hundred  miles  from  the  Gulf  of  Pechihli 
to  the  Pass  of  Nankow.  On  the  north  it  is  flanked  by 


GREAT  RIVER  TO  GREAT  WALL    229 

low  hills,  thus  happily  excluding  all  evil  influences, 
but  it  is  open  to  the  good,  that  always  come  from  the 
south.  So  from  a  Chinese  point  of  view  its  location 
is  entirely  satisfactory,  but  a  European  might  think 
it  was  dangerously  near  the  frontier  for  the  capital 
city  of  a  great  state.  Years  ago  Gordon's  advice  to 
the  Tsungli  Yamen  was,  "  Move  your  Queen  Bee  to 
Nanking."  And  just  now  the  same  thing  is  being 
said,  only  more  peremptorily,  by  some  of  the  Chinese 
themselves.  But  for  the  moment  lack  of  money  and 
fear  of  Southern  influences  have  carried  the  day 
against  any  military  advantage,  and  the  capital  re- 
mains where  it  is.  Perhaps  the  outsider  may  be  per- 
mitted to  say  she  is  glad,  for  Nanking  could  never 
hope  to  rival  the  Northern  city  in  charm  and  interest. 

The  most  wonderful  thing  in  Peking  is  the  wall. 
That  is  what  first  holds  your  attention,  and  you  never 
for  a  moment  forget  it.  There  it  stands,  aloof  and  re- 
mote, dominating  the  city  it  was  set  to  defend,  but 
not  a  part  of  it.  Huge,  massive,  simple,  it  has  nothing 
in  common  with  the  gaudy,  over-ornamented,  un- 
restful  buildings  of  the  Chinese,  and  as  you  enter  its 
shadow  you  seem  to  have  passed  into  a  different 
world. 

Often  before  breakfast  I  climbed  to  the  top  of  the 
wall  beyond  the  Water  Gate  for  a  run  with  Jack  be- 
fore the  heat  of  the  day  set  in.  It  was  a  glorious 
place  for  a  morning  walk.  The  wall  is  some  forty 


230  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

feet  high,  and  along  the  top  runs  a  broad  path  en- 
closed by  crenellated  parapets.  From  here  your  vision 
ranges  north  and  south  and  east  and  west ;  no  smoke, 
no  tall  chimneys,  no  towering,  hideous  buildings  to 
break  and  spoil  the  view. 

North  you  look  over  the  Tartar  City,  which  is  really 
three  cities,  all  walled,  and  one  within  the  other  like 
the  boxes  of  a  puzzle,  the  Tartar  City  enclosing  the 
Imperial  City,  and  that  in  turn  the  Forbidden  City. 
If  you  stand  under  the  many-storied  tower  that  sur- 
mounts the  Chien-Men,  you  look  straight  along  the 
road  that  leads  through  the  vermilion  walls,  right 
into  the  Purple  City,  the  heart  of  Peking.  In  Marco 
Polo's  time  the  middle  door  of  the  great  portal  was 
never  opened  save  to  admit  the  emperor,  and  that 
was  still  true  a  few  months  ago,  but  last  winter  a  day 
came  when  the  bars  rolled  back,  and  there  entered 
no  emperor,  no  ruler,  but  the  representative  of  the 
People's  Assembly,  and  then  a  placard  was  posted 
announcing  that  hereafter  the  door  was  open  to  every 
one,  for  all  China  belonged  to  the  people.  For  a 
matter-of-fact  man  the  Chinese  has  a  very  dramatic 
way  of  doing  things. 

Turning  southwards  from  the  top  of  the  wall  you 
look  beyond  the  Chinese  City,  which  is  nothing  but 
a  walled  suburb,  to  the  gleaming  white  walls  of  the 
Temple  of  Heaven,  half  buried  in  the  trees.  There 
each  year  the  emperor  comes  to  offer  sacrifices  to  his 


TARTAR  WALL,    PEKING 


Underwood  &  Underwood 


Underwood  &  Underwood 
CARAVAN   OUTSIDE   THE  TARTAR  WALL 


GREAT  RIVER   TO   GREAT   WALL    231 

ancestors,  the  crowning  expression  of  China's  truest 
religion,  ancestor  worship.  In  a  few  months  only, 
Prince  Ch'un,  the  Regent,  whom  you  have  just  met 
driving  in  state  through  the  Imperial  City,  standing 
among  his  ministers,  and  acting  for  the  baby  em- 
peror, will  take  the  oath,  not  to  the  people  of  China, 
nor  to  any  representative  assembly,  but  to  the  im- 
perial ancestors  to  accept  and  obey  the  new  consti- 
tutional principles.  "  I,  your  descendant,  P'u  Yi,"  he 
will  say,  "  have  endeavoured  to  consummate  the 
constitutional  programme,  but  my  policy  and  my 
choice  of  officials  have  not  been  wise.  Hence  the  re- 
cent troubles.  Fearing  the  fall  of  the  sacred  dynasty 
I  accept  the  advice  of  the  National  Assembly,  and  I 
vow  to  uphold  the  nineteen  constitutional  articles, 
and  to  organize  a  Parliament.  ...  I  and  my  de- 
scendants will  adhere  to  it  forever.  Your  Heavenly 
Spirits  will  see  and  understand." 

There  is  unfailing  charm  and  interest  in  the  view 
over  Peking  from  the  top  of  the  wall.  Chinese  cities 
are  generally  attractive,  looked  down  upon  from 
above,  because  of  the  many  trees,  but  here  the  wealth 
of  foliage  and  blaze  of  colour  are  almost  bewilder- 
ing ;  the  graceful  outlines  of  pagoda  and  temple,  the 
saucy  tilt  of  the  roofs,  yellow  and  green,  imperial  and 
princely,  rising  above  stretches  of  soft  brown  walls, 
the  homes  of  the  people,  everything  framed  in  masses 
of  living  green ;  and  stretching  around  it  all,  like  a 


232  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

huge  protecting  arm,  the  great  grey  wall.  You  sigh 
with  satisfaction ;  nowhere  is  there  a  jarring  note ; 
and  then  —  you  turn  your  eyes  down  to  the  grounds 
and  buildings  of  the  American  Legation  at  your  feet, 
clean,  comfortable,  uncompromising,  and  alien.  Near 
you  paces  to  and  fro  a  soldier,  gun  on  shoulder,  his 
trim  figure  set  off  by  his  well-fitting  khaki  clothes, 
unmistakably  American,  unmistakably  foreign,  guard- 
ing this  strip  of  Peking's  great  wall,  where  neither 
Manchu  nor  Chinese  may  set  foot.  And  then  your 
gaze  travels  along  the  wall,  to  where,  dimly  outlined 
against  the  horizon,  you  discern  the  empty  frames 
of  the  wonderful  astronomical  instruments  that  were 
once  the  glory  of  Peking,  now  adorning  a  Berlin 
museum,  set  up  for  the  German  holiday-makers  to 
gape  at.  After  all,  there  are  discordant  notes  in 
Peking. 

Down  in  the  streets  there  is  plenty  of  life  and  vari- 
ety. Mongol  and  Manchu  and  Chinese  jostle  each 
other  in  the  dust  or  mud  of  the  broad  highways.  The 
swift  rickshaws  thread  their  way  through  the  throng 
with  amazing  dexterity.  Here  the  escort  of  a  great 
official  clatters  by,  with  jingling  swords  and  flutter 
of  tassels,  there  a  long  train  of  camels  fresh  from  the 
desert  blocks  the  road.  The  trim  European  victoria, 
in  which  sits  the  fair  wife  of  a  Western  diplomat, 
fresh  as  a  flower  in  her  summer  finery,  halts  side  by 
side  with  the  heavy  Peking  cart,  its  curved  matting 


GREAT   RIVER  TO   GREAT  WALL    233 

top  framing  the  gay  dress  and  gayer  faces  of  some 
Manchu  women.  And  the  kaleidoscopic  scene  moves 
against  a  background  of  shops  and  houses  gay  with 
paint  and  gilding.  The  life,  the  colour,  the  noise  are 
bewildering ;  your  head  begins  to  swim.  And  then 
you  look  away  from  it  all  to  the  great  wall.  There  it 
stands,  massive,  aloof,  untouched  by  the  petty  life  at 
its  foot.  And  you  think  of  all  it  has  looked  upon ; 
what  tales  of  men  and  their  doings  it  could  tell.  And 
you  ask  the  first  European  you  meet,  or  the  last,  — 
it  is  always  the  same,  —  about  the  place  and  its  his- 
tory, and  he  says,  "  Oh,  yes,  Peking  is  full  of  histori- 
cal memorials  which  you  must  not  fail  to  see"  ;  but 
they  always  turn  out  to  be  the  spots  made  famous  in 
the  siege  of  the  legations.  To  the  average  European, 
Peking's  history  begins  in  1900 ;  you  cannot  get  away 
from  that  time,  and  after  a  while  you  tire  of  it,  and 
you  tire,  too,  of  all  the  bustle  and  blaze  of  colour. 
And  you  climb  again  to  the  top  of  the  wall  that  seems 
to  belong  to  another  world,  and  you  look  off  toward 
the  great  break  in  the  hills,  to  Nankow,  the  Gate  of 
the  South.  On  the  other  side  the  road  leads  straight 
away  to  the  Mongolian  uplands  where  the  winds 
blow,  and  to  the  wide,  empty  spaces  of  the  desert. 

So  you  turn  your  back  upon  Peking,  and  the  rail- 
way takes  you  to  Kalgan  on  the  edge  of  the  great 
plateau.  It  is  only  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles 
away,  but  you  spend  nearly  a  whole  day  in  the  train, 


234  A  WAYFARER  IN  CHINA 

for  you  are  climbing  all  the  way.  And  time  does  not 
matter,  for  it  is  interesting  to  see  what  the  Chinese 
can  do  in  railway  building  and  railway  managing,  all 
by  themselves.  The  Kalgan-Peking  railway  was  the 
first  thing  of  the  kind  constructed  by  the  Chinese, 
and  the  engineer  in  chief,  Chang-Tien- You,  did  the 
work  so  well  (he  was  educated  in  America,  one  of  the 
group  that  came  in  the  early  seventies)  that  he  was 
later  put  in  charge  of  the  railway  that  was  to  be  built 
from  Canton  northwards.  It  seems  to  be  an  honest 
piece  of  work ;  at  any  rate,  the  stations  had  a  sub- 
stantial look. 

At  the  grand  mountain  gateway  of  Nankow  you 
pass  under  the  Great  Wall,  which  crosses  the  road 
at  right  angles,  and  as  you  slowly  steam  across  the 
plateau  on  the  outer  side,  you  see  it  reappearing  from 
time  to  time  like  a  huge  snake  winding  along  the 
ridges.  Old  wall,  new  railway ;  which  will  serve  China 
best?  One  sought  to  keep  the  world  out,  the  other 
should  help  to  create  a  Chinese  nation  that  will  not 
need  to  fear  the  world. 

My  first  impression  of  Kalgan  was  of  a  modern 
European  station,  and  many  lines  of  rails ;  my  last 
and  most  enduring,  the  kindness  of  the  Western 
dweller  in  the  East  to  the  stray  Westerner  of  whose 
doings  he  probably  disapproves.  Between  these  two 
impressions  I  had  only  time  to  gain  a  passing  glimpse 
of  the  town  itself.  It  is  a  busy,  dirty  place,  enclosed 


GREAT  RIVER  TO   GREAT  WALL    235 

in  high  walls,  and  cut  in  two  by  the  rapid  Ta  Ho.  A 
huddle  of  palaces,  temples,  banks  lies  concealed  be- 
hind the  mud  walls  that  hem  in  the  narrow  lanes,  for 
Kalgan  has  been  for  many  years  an  important  trad- 
ing centre,  and  through  here  passes  the  traffic  across 
the  Gobi  Desert.  In  the  dirty,  open  square  crowded 
with  carts  are  two  or  three  incongruous  Western 
buildings,  for  the  foreigner  and  his  ways  have  found 
the  town  out.  Of  the  small  European  community, 
missionaries  of  different  nationalities  and  Russians  of 
various  callings  form  the  largest  groups.  The  ener- 
getic British  American  Tobacco  Company  also  has 
its  representatives  here,  who  were  my  most  courte- 
ous hosts  during  my  two  days'  stay. 

Kalgan  stands  hard-by  the  Great  Wall ;  here  China 
and  Mongolia  meet,  and  the  two  races  mingle  in  its 
streets.  Nothing  now  keeps  them  in  or  out,  but  the 
barrier  of  a  great  gulf  is  there.  Behind  you  lie  the 
depressing  heat  and  the  crowded  places  of  the  low- 
lands. Before  you  is  the  untainted  air,  the  emptiness 
of  Mongolia.  You  have  turned  your  back  on  the 
walled-in  Chinese  world,  walled  houses,  walled  towns, 
walled  empire ;  you  look  out  on  the  great  spaces,  the 
freedom  of  the  desert. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE   MONGOLIAN   GRASSLAND 

MY  stay  in  Peking  was  not  all  pleasure  and 
sight-seeing,  for  it  was  necessary  to  decide 
there  upon  the  next  steps.  Within  a  few  weeks  I 
would  have  to  be  on  the  Siberian  railway  homeward 
bound.  Should  I  spend  the  time  left  me  in  seeing 
Shantung,  the  Sacred  Province,  with  all  it  had  of  in- 
terest to  offer,  or  should  I  make  a  hurried  run  through 
the  debatable  land  of  Manchuria  ?  One  or  the  other 
seemed  the  natural  thing  to  do,  but  I  had  an  uneasy 
feeling  that  either  would  mean  conventional  travel, 
so  far  as  that  is  possible  in  China,  railways,  and 
maybe  hotels.  Then  Shantung  is  now  a  much-visited 
country,  while  Manchuria,  dominated  by  Russia  and 
Japan,  was  hardly  likely  to  offer  "an  open  door"  to 
anything  more  than  the  most  cut-and-dried  guide- 
book travel. 

But  Mongolia  seemed  to  afford  a  way  out  of  my 
doubts.  Post-roads  and  trade-routes  crossed  the  coun- 
try from  the  Great  Wall,  sooner  or  later  striking  the 
Siberian  railway  near  Lake  Baikal.  That  would  set 
me  forward  some  five  days  on  the  overland  journey 
to  Moscow,  cutting  off  just  so  much  of  railway  travel, 
and  as  far  as  I  could  learn  there  were  no  hotels,  not 


THE  MONGOLIAN   GRASSLAND      237 

even  Chinese  inns,  in  Mongolia,  so  I  would  not  need 
to  fear  being  too  comfortable.  But  above  all,  there 
was  the  charm  in  the  very  word  Mongolia.  Out  of 
that  great,  little  known  plateau,  almost  as  large  as 
all  of  China  proper,  had  come  in  days  past  horde 
upon  horde  of  savage  warriors,  the  scourge  of  God, 
the  terror  of  the  West,  carrying  north  and  south,  from 
Peking  to  Budapest,  from  the  Volga  to  the  Hugli, 
their  victorious  banners.  What  was  the  land  that 
bred  such  a  race?  What  of  the  Mongols  nowadays? 
Even  a  few  weeks  would  tell  me  something. 

Having  made  up  my  mind  to  go,  I  set  about  learn- 
ing the  how  and  the  where,  with  the  usual  results ; 
much  advice  asked  and  unasked  of  a  very  contra- 
dictory sort.  The  American  Legation  with  fine  cour- 
tesy offered  no  counsel,  but  gave  every  possible  help, 
securing  for  me  the  proper  vises  for  my  passports, 
even  speeding  the  wheels  of  the  slow-moving  Wai- 
wu-pu  so  that  I  might  not  be  delayed.  The  matter 
of  getting  a  servant  proved  rather  difficult.  One  who 
was  proposed  declined  to  go  with  a  lady,  for  he 
"  would  have  to  be  braver  than  she  " ;  others  were 
daunted  by  the  sound  of  Mongolia ;  but  finally, 
through  the  kind  help  of  Captain  Reeves,  the  American 
military  attache,  I  got  hold  of  my  invaluable  Wang, 
interpreter,  cook,  and  general  factotum  in  one,  and 
faithfullest  of  Chinese.  Dr.  Morrison,  the  famous 
Times  correspondent,  gave  me  much-needed  encour- 


238  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

agement  at  just  the  right  moment.  He  had  long 
hoped  to  do  it  himself,  he  said,  and  of  course  I  could 
do  it ;  and  speaking  of  his  own  recent  extended  trip 
the  length  of  Mongolia  and  Chinese  Turkestan,  he 
flung  out  a  remark  which  was  very  comforting  to 
my  soul :  Did  I  not  hate  to  have  people  tell  me  that 
I  could  not  do  a  thing,  that  it  was  too  difficult  or  too 
dangerous  ?  If  they  would  only  stop  with  giving  you 
the  facts  as  they  knew  them,  and  keep  their  opinions 
to  themselves.  Well,  I  thought,  if  people  dare  to  tell 
Dr.  Morrison  what  he  can  and  cannot  do,  I  must  not 
mind  if  I  am  treated  in  the  same  way. 

But  I  needed  to  take  that  comfort  to  my  heart  more 
than  once  in  those  days.  A  request  for  some  bit  of  in- 
formation so  often  met  with  no  facts,  but  simply  the 
stern  remark  that  it  was  not  a  thing  for  a  woman  to 
do.  And  when  I  did  get  precise  statements  they  could 
not  all  be  facts,  they  were  so  very  contradictory. 
I  could  go  from  Kalgan  to  Urga  in  eighteen  days ; 
I  must  allow  twenty-four  or  thirty;  it  usually  took 
thirty  days  to  the  railway ;  I  must  not  expect  to  do 
it  under  forty-five.  I  must  buy  ponies  to  cross  from 
Kalgan ;  camels  were  the  only  thing  to  use ;  no  cam- 
els could  be  had  in  summer.  Beyond  Urga  I  must 
hire  a  droshky ;  the  only  way  to  travel  was  by  steamer; 
I  could  never  stand  a  cart ;  I  could  never  sit  so  many 
hours  in  the  saddle.  There  would  be  no  water; 
I  could  not  drink  it  if  there  were.  The  weather  would 


THE  MONGOLIAN   GRASSLAND      239 

be  intolerably  hot ;  I  must  expect  snowstorms  and 
sandstorms ;  there  would  be  heavy  rains  making  go- 
ing impossible.  My  transport  would  give  out ;  my 
men  would  desert  me ;  brigands  would  waylay  and 
rob  my  caravan. 

One  gentleman  to  whom  I  wrote  began  his  reply 
by  saying  that  he  answered  my  inquiries  "with  much 
pleasure  "  ;  and  then  continued,  "  Frankly,  I  do  not 
think  the  trip  from  Kalgan  to  Urga  should  be  taken 
by  a  lady  alone  at  any  time."  Then  followed  ten 
good  reasons  why  I  should  not  go,  and  first  and  fore- 
most that  I  should  have  to  leave  behind  me  all  inns, 
and  would  have  to  camp  out. 

That  settled  it.  There  was  nothing  I  should  be  so 
glad  to  leave  behind  as  inns,  and  for  months  I  had 
been  longing  to  sleep  in  a  tent.  So  I  fell  to  making 
my  preparations  with  good  heart.  But  the  enemy  had 
not  reached  the  end  of  his  resources  (the  enemy  was 
usually  a  well-bred,  intelligent  European  or  American 
with  charming  manners  and  the  kindest  intentions.) 
An  English  officer  just  returned  from  Mongolia  as- 
sured me  I  could  never  get  my  dog  across,  the  sav- 
age Mongol  brutes  would  tear  him  in  pieces ;  but  I 
knew  my  dog  and  he  did  not,  so  I  put  that  aside. 
The  last  shot  was  the  hardest  to  meet :  "  It  will  not 
be  worth  while."  Almost  I  gave  in,  but  I  had  reached 
the  pig-headed  stage,  and  I  could  not,  though  I 
wanted  to. 


240  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

And  now  the  crossing  of  Mongolia  is  a  thing  of 
the  past,  and  I  am  not  prepared  to  deny  anything 
that  any  one  asserted  about  the  journey,  only  some- 
how I  managed  to  slip  through  between  all  the  dan- 
gers and  difficulties.  I  did  the  trip  from  wall  to  rail- 
way, not  counting  the  stops  I  made  for  my  own 
pleasure,  in  twenty-eight  days;  the  weather  was  gen- 
erally a  joy,  and  I  bade  my  Mongols  good-bye  in  Urga 
with  real  regret.  I  had  no  troubles,  I  met  with  no  acci- 
dents, and  it  was  worth  while — for  once. 

It  is  surprising  how  well  one  gets  on  with  make- 
shifts. As  Peking  is  not  a  treaty  port  there  are  few 
European  shops,  and  it  would  seem  as  unsatisfactory 
a  place  for  making  up  a  camping-outfit  as  Hong 
Kong  was  satisfactory,  but  with  the  help  of  kind 
friends  I  managed  to  get  together  something  that 
would  pass  muster.  There  were  the  usual  stores,  but 
with  much  more  in  the  way  of  tinned  meat  and  smoked 
fish  than  I  took  in  West  China,  for  there  would  be  no 
handy  fowls  along  our  road  across  Mongolia,  only 
now  and  then  a  sheep ;  and,  as  always,  I  laid  in  a  fair 
supply  of  jam.  I  understand  now  why  England  sent 
tons  of  jam  to  the  army  in  South  Africa ;  the  fruiti- 
ness  of  it  is  most  refreshing  when  fresh  fruit  and 
vegetables  are  short.  But  of  all  my  supplies,  nothing 
proved  so  comforting  as  two  bottles  of  lime  juice  and 
a  tin  of  so-called  grape  nuts.  The  latter  mixed  with 
milk  helped  out  the  early  starts  when  the  fuel  was  so 


THE  MONGOLIAN   GRASSLAND      241 

damp  that  a  fire  was  out  of  the  question,  while  the 
lime  juice  made  drinkable  the  roiliest  and  warmest 
water.  The  only  time  when  I  felt  like  losing  my  tem- 
per with  good  Wang  was  when  he  smashed  the  last 
bottle.  I  had  to  gallop  off  to  keep  from  saying  things. 
By  good  luck  I  succeeded  in  hiring  an  old  American 
army  saddle,  and  it  proved  just  what  I  wanted.  There 
is  nothing  like  that  sort  of  saddle  for  long  tours  on 
horseback,  easy  for  rider  and  beast. 

The  question  of  money  required  careful  planning ; 
it  always  does  in  out-of-the-way  travel ;  but  finally, 
through  the  kindness  of  the  officials  of  the  Russo- 
Asiatic  Bank,  everything  was  arranged.  I  would  use 
little  money  in  crossing  the  desert,  and  of  course  the 
less  I  carried  the  better,  but  a  good  sum  must  be 
forthcoming  when  I  reached  Urga  and  the  railway, 
so  the  bank  furnished  me  with  drafts  on  the  native 
banks  and  their  own  branches,  and  I  had  no  difficulty, 
while  from  Peking  I  carried  dollars  and  taels  to  meet 
expenses  at  the  start.  I  felt  like  Pilgrim  freed  from 
his  burden,  to  be  quit  of  carrying  a  lot  of  small  change, 
for  a  dollar's  worth  of  cash  is  almost  twenty  pounds 
in  weight. 

Fortunately  my  arrangements  were  so  complete 
when  I  arrived  in  Kalgan  that  during  my  two  days' 
wait  for  letters  I  had  little  to  do,  for  my  various  act- 
ivities in  Peking,  combined  with  the  damp  heat,  had 
rather  done  me  up,  and  I  was  glad  to  take  my  ease 


242  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

while  my  kind  young  host  of  the  British  American 
Tobacco  Company  turned  the  place  upside  down  in 
his  efforts  to  provide  for  the  comfort  of  my  journey. 
My  saddle  was  overhauled,  a  charming  saddle-cloth 
of  Mongolian  work  was  supplied,  a  great  package  of 
cigarettes  put  up  to  cheer  my  men  on  the  road,  and 
for  me  a  box  of  soda  water. 

One  very  important  thing  had  been  omitted  from 
my  stores.  I  had  neglected  to  bring  onions  and  po- 
tatoes from  Peking,  most  desirable  supplies  in  the 
country  for  which  I  was  starting,  a  land  where  no- 
thing is  grown ;  and  neither  potatoes  nor  onions  were 
to  be  had  in  Kalgan.  Even  my  host  could  not  help ; 
he  was  out  of  them  himself.  But  when  I  bewailed  the 
omission  to  resourceful  Wang  he  looked  wise  and 
said  quietly,  "Madam  wants  potatoes  and  onions; 
she  shall  have  potatoes  and  onions" ;  and  I  had,  a 
good  bag  of  each,  and  such  fine  ones  that  a  missionary 
lady,  seeing  my  supplies,  asked  if  she  might  inquire 
of  my  "  boy  "  where  he  had  got  them  ;  never  had  she 
seen  the  like  in  Kalgan.  I  hope  she  found  out ;  I  did 
not.  Most  likely  it  was  one  of  those  back-stair  ar- 
rangements common  in  the  East,  and  I  hope  no 
Chinese  official  or  Russian  merchant  had  to  go  short 
because  of  it,  but  I  am  sure  my  need  was  greater 
than  his.  They  tell  a  delightful  story  in  Peking  of  an 
occasion  when  a  group  of  young  men  attached  to  a 
certain  legation,  as  student  interpreters,  wishing  to 


THE  MONGOLIAN   GRASSLAND      243 

give  a  dinner  party  found  themselves  short  of  silver, 
but  the  servants  rose  to  the  situation,  and  when  the 
night  came  the  dinner  table  was  resplendent  with 
massive  silver  decorated  with  the  armorial  bearings 
of — another  legation. 

Just  before  I  left  Kalgan  my  larder  was  enriched 
from  another  and  unexpected  source.  Thanks  to  the 
friendly  introduction  of  an  American  gentleman  in 
Peking,  His  Excellency,  Hou  Wei  T£h,  the  Senior 
Vice-President  of  the  Wai-wu-pu,  most  courteously 
sent  instructions  to  Chinese  officials  along  my  route, 
especially  at  Kalgan  and  Urga,  to  give  me  every  as- 
sistance. And  soon  after  my  arrival  in  Kalgan  three 
officials  of  the  Bureau  of  Foreign  Affairs  made  me  a 
formal  call,  and  the  next  day  they  came  again,  followed 
by  a  coolie  bearing  a  basket  of  stores  which  proved 
to  be  of  great  value  before  my  journey  was  over. 
One  feels  rather  shabby  at  accepting  courtesies  for 
which  one  can  make  no  return.  I  did  my  best  by 
writing  appreciative  letters  to  all  concerned,  begin- 
ning with  His  Excellency,  the  Senior  Vice-President. 
I  hope  he  got  the  letter,  but  the  next  thing  I  heard  of 
His  Excellency  was  his  sudden  appearance  over  the 
wall  of  the  American  Mission  Compound  at  Peking, 
fleeing  before  the  mutinous  soldiers. 

On  the  morning  of  July  26,  I  was  rumbling  over 
the  broken  pavements  of  Kalgan  streets  in  a  Peking 
cart  guided  by  the  trusty  Mongol  of  a  friend,  and 


244  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

escorted  by  soldiers  sent  by  the  Foreign  Office.  My 
kit  was  packed  in  around  me,  or  I  should  certainly 
have  whacked  my  brains  out  against  the  sides  of  the 
cover.  As  it  was,  my  hair  came  down,  my  hat  rolled 
from  side  to  side,  and  it  was  a  miracle  that  anything 
stayed  in  the  cart.  And  I  did  not  long,  for  as  soon  as 
we  were  outside  the  walls  and  making  our  way  along 
the  dry  bed  of  the  Sha  Shin  Ho,  I  jumped  out,  and 
for  most  of  that  day  I  either  walked  or  rode  the  Mon- 
gol's pony.  A  Peking  cart  may  have  other  and  better 
uses,  but  as  an  instrument  of  torture  it  is  unrivalled. 
Just  as  the  thing  was  in  Marco  Polo's  time,  so  it  is 
to-day.  You  crawl  in  on  hands  and  knees,  and  then 
painfully  screw  yourself  round,  and  so  sit  cross-legged, 
or  with  feet  outstretched  if  there  is  room,  your  head 
only  escaping  the  top  as  you  crane  your  neck  to  catch 
the  view  or  to  get  a  bit  of  fresh  air.  The  driver  sit- 
ting on  the  shafts  has  much  the  best  of  it,  and  more 
than  once  I  joined  him,  — very  unsuitable,  of  course. 
The  main  trails  that  cross  Mongolia  from  Kalgan  to 
Urga  are  two.  One,  the  longer  and  better  known, 
tends  a  little  to  the  west,  and  is  called  by  various 
names,  the  "  Mandarin  Road  "  or  "  Relay  "  or  "  Cart 
Road."  Along  its  course  are  markets  and  Mongol 
settlements,  and  there  are  post  or  relay  stations  at 
regular  intervals.  Hence  it  is  preferred  by  the  Chi- 
nese caravan  men  as  well  as  by  the  great,  or  those 
in  a  hurry,  who  use  relays.  The  other,  known  as  the 


THE  MONGOLIAN   GRASSLAND      245 

"  Camel  Road,"  turns  northward  from  Kalgan  and 
after  a  hundred  miles  takes  a  northwestward  course 
to  Urga.  There  are  no  Mongol  settlements  after  you 
have  passed  the  fringe  of  villages  bordering  the  Great 
Wall,  and  wells  are  few  and  far  between,  but  it  is  one 
hundred  miles  shorter  than  the  more  western  route, 
and  by  so  much  the  better  for  those  who  go  through 
with  the  same  animals.  Much  of  the  way  is  marked 
by  the  telegraph  wire  that  now  stretches  its  many 
miles  across  the  desert,  but  it  would  be  rather  unwise 
to  trust  entirely  to  this  guidance,  for  at  times  it  leads 
where  only  winged  things  can  follow,  and  above  all 
it  never  swerves  to  point  out  the  wells  along  the 
way,  and  missing  one  you  might  not  reach  another 
for  twenty-four  hours,  or  perhaps  never.  As  I  was 
neither  hurried  nor  privileged,  I  chose  this  road. 

Over  one  or  the  other  of  these  trails  pass  thousands 
of  carts  and  camel  trains  each  year,  carrying  north 
or  south  tea  and  cloth  and  notions  and  hides  and  furs, 
to  the  value  of  many  millions  of  taels.  But  most  of 
Mongolia's  exports  go  on  their  own  feet,  ponies  or 
cattle  or  sheep. 

Under  the  treaties  of  1858  and  1860  a  post-route 
between  the  Russian  frontier  and  Kalgan  was  estab- 
lished, and  in  spite  of  the  competing  railway  through 
Manchuria,  a  horse-post  still  crosses  the  desert  three 
times  a  month  each  way.  The  Mongols  who  are  em- 
ployed for  the  work  go  through  from  city  to  city  in 


246  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

seven  days,  galloping  all  the  way,  with  frequent 
changes  of  horses  and,  less  frequent,  of  men.  And 
once  a  month  a  parcels-post  makes  its  slow  way 
across,  guarded  by  Cossacks. 

Just  why  the  Russians  persist  in  this  costly  and 
slower  method  of  forwarding  mails  when  the  railway 
would  do  it  in  about  half  the  time,  I  cannot  under- 
stand. One  reason  given  me  was  that  they  might  not 
care  to  trust  their  mails  to  the  Japanese,  who  control 
the  southern  section  of  the  Manchurian  railway.  And 
in  case  of  trouble  between  the  two  powers  the  Rus- 
sians might  find  it  convenient  to  have  a  connection 
of  their  own  with  China.  It  seemed  to  me  more  like 
a  part  of  Russia's  plan  of  "  peaceful  penetration,"  of 
extending  her  influence  over  Mongolia  even  to  the 
Great  Wall.  Kalgan  seems  already  an  outpost  of 
Russia,  with  its  groups  of  Russian  merchants,  its 
Russian  church,  bank,  post-office,  and  consulate,  one 
as  much  as  the  other  representative  of  the  White 
Tsar. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  first  day  from  Kalgan  we 
passed  under  the  towers  which  are  all  that  is  left  here 
of  the  Great  Wall,  save  the  pile  of  stones  which  marks 
the  line  where  it  stood.  Built  of  mud  faced  with  stone, 
it  has  crumbled  away,  leaving  the  solid  masonry 
towers  standing  like  giant  sentinels  to  guard  the  road. 

Here  I  stood  face  to  face  with  another  world. 
China  lay  behind  me  and  below,  for  we  had  risen 


THE  MONGOLIAN   GRASSLAND       247 

some  fifteen  hundred  feet  since  leaving  Kalgan.  Be- 
fore me  stretched  the  great  Mongolian  plateau.  The 
wind  that  cooled  my  face  had  blown  over  thousands 
of  miles  of  prairie  and  desert.  The  long  lines  of 
stately,  shambling  camels,  the  great  droves  of  sheep 
herded  by  wild-looking  men  on  sturdy  little  ponies 
told  of  an  open  country.  Each  mile  led  deeper  and 
deeper  into  the  rolling  grassland  and  the  barren 
waste  of  Gobi,  and  between  me  and  the  next  town 
lay  nearly  seven  hundred  miles  of  treeless  plain  and 
barren  sand. 

For  four  days  we  were  crossing  the  grassland, 
wide  stretches  of  gently  undulating  country  covered 
with  thick  rich  grass ;  wave  upon  wave  it  rolled  like 
a  great  ocean  up  to  the  ramparts  of  China.  As  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach  there  was  nothing  but  living 
green  untouched  by  plough  or  spade,  unbroken  save 
where  little  lines  of  settlement  stretched  like  clutch- 
ing fingers  into  the  sea  of  grass,  the  menacing  ad- 
vance of  the  Chinese,  the  tillers  of  the  soil. 

Much  of  the  time  I  walked ;  the  air  of  the  uplands 
almost  carried  me  along,  and  it  was  joy  to  feel  my 
feet  on  real  grass  once  more.  Over  the  open  country 
short  cuts  were  easy  to  find,  and  I  generally  kept  in 
advance  of  the  others.  The  groups  of  Mongols  hurry- 
ing to  the  town  greeted  me  in  friendly  fashion  ;  the 
look  of  the  desert  was  in  their  faces,  bold,  hardy, 
burnt,  and  lined  by  sun  and  wind  and  biting  cold. 


248  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

Like  and  yet  unlike  the  Tibetans  I  had  seen  in 
Tachienlu,  they  were  slighter  of  build  and  gayer  and 
more  open  of  expression ;  they  attracted  me  as  the 
others  had  repelled  me.  Scrambling  over  the  grassy 
slopes,  I  more  than  once  lost  my  way,  but  some 
Mongol  always  turned  up  to  put  me  straight. 

Our  first  stops  at  noon  and  at  night  were  at  way- 
side inns  built  much  like  a  Turkish  khan  on  two  or 
three  sides  of  an  enclosure  of  mud  and  stones,  and 
furnished  with  a  strong  gate.  At  one,  the  small  pri- 
vate room  off  a  large  common  hall  was  given  to  me 
and  to  a  neat-looking  Chinese  woman  who  appar- 
ently was  travelling  alone  and  on  horseback.  Two 
thirds  of  the  room  was  taken  up  by  a  "kang,"  or  plaster 
furnace,  raised  some  three  feet  above  the  floor,  and 
on  this  our  beds  were  spread.  But  that  was  my  last 
sight  of  a  house  for  many  a  day ;  henceforth  there 
was  nothing  but  tents  and  "yurts." 

Our  stop  the  next  night  was  at  a  small  Mongol 
settlement  of  several  yurts.  One  of  these  was  vacated 
for  me.  Judging  from  those  I  stayed  in  later,  it  was 
unusually  large  and  clean. 

Here  I  was  in  the  unchanging  East,  if  it  be  any- 
where to-day.  More  than  six  centuries  ago  an  ob- 
servant Venetian  passed  this  way,  and  his  brief  de- 
scription of  a  Mongol  abode  fits  as  well  now  as  it  did 
then.  " Their  huts  or  tents,"  says  Marco  Polo,  "are 
formed  of  rods  covered  with  felt,  and  being  exactly 


THE  MONGOLIAN   GRASSLAND      249 

round  and  neatly  put  together,  they  can  gather  them 
into  one  bundle."  But  since  his  description  is  so  brief, 
it  may  be  supplemented  by  a  more  modern  traveller, 
genial  Abbe  Hue,  whose  visit  dates  back  only  sixty- 
five  years :  —  . 

"The  Mongol  tent,  for  about  three  feet  from  the 
ground,  is  cylindrical  in  form.  It  then  becomes  con- 
ical, like  a  pointed  hat.  The  woodwork  of  the  tent  is 
composed  below  of  a  trellis-work  of  crossed  bars, 
which  fold  up  and  expand  at  pleasure.  Above  these, 
a  circle  of  poles,  fixed  in  the  trellis-work,  meets  at  the 
top,  like  the  sticks  of  an  umbrella.  Over  the  wood- 
work is  stretched,  once  or  twice,  a  thick  covering  of 
coarse  linen,  and  thus  the  tent  is  composed.  The 
door,  which  is  always  a  folding  door,  is  low  and 
narrow.  A  beam  crosses  it  at  the  bottom  by  way  of 
threshold,  so  that  on  entering  you  have  at  once  to 
raise  your  feet  and  lower  your  head.  Besides  the 
door  there  is  another  opening  at  the  top  of  the  tent 
to  let  out  the  smoke.  This  opening  can  at  any  time 
be  closed  with  a  piece  of  felt,  fastened  above  it  in 
the  tent,  which  can  be  pulled  over  it  by  means  of  a 
string,  the  end  of  which  hangs  by  the  door.  The  in- 
terior is  divided  into  two  compartments ;  that  on  the 
left,  as  you  enter,  is  reserved  for  the  men,  and  thither 
the  visitors  proceed.  Any  man  who  should  enter  on 
the  right  side  would  be  considered  excessively  rude. 
The  right  compartment  is  occupied  by  the  women, 


250  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

and  there  you  find  the  culinary  utensils :  large  earthen 
vessels  of  glazed  earth,  wherein  to  keep  the  store  of 
water;  trunks  of  trees,  of  different  sizes,  hollowed  into 
the  shape  of  pails,  and  destined  to  contain  the  prepar- 
ations of  milk,  in  the  various  forms  which  they  make 
it  undergo.  In  the  centre  of  the  tent  is  a  large  trivet, 
planted  in  the  earth,  and  always  ready  to  receive  the 
large  iron,  bell-shaped  cauldron  that  stands  by,  ready 
for  use." 

And  that  is  just  what  I  found,  but  the  tent  cover- 
ing was  always  of  felt,  not  linen,  and  there  were 
often  two  tents,  one  for  the  men  and  one  for  the 
women,  instead  of  a  tent  with  two  divisions ;  and 
alas,  more  often  than  not,  the  hollow  tree  trunk  was 
replaced  by  Standard  Oil  tins.  But  as  the  Mongol 
lived  in  Marco  Polo's  time,  and  Hue's,  so  he  does 
still,  and  so  he  will  continue  to  live  until  Chinese 
colonization  or  Russian  rule  forces  him  to  give  up 
his  nomadic  ways  and  settle  down  and  cultivate  the 
soil. 

Around  the  yurt  gathered  women  and  children, 
dogs  and  calves.  They  were  friendly,  almost  too 
much  so,  and  the  women  interested  me  as  much  as 
I  did  them.  All  alike  were  clad  in  long,  shapeless 
woollen  garments  that  might  have  been  any  colour, 
so  grimy  were  they,  but  the  dirt  and  rags  of  their 
dress  only  set  off  the  more  the  splendour  of  their 
headgear;  a  broad  bandeau,  elaborately  fashioned 


THE  MONGOLIAN   GRASSLAND      251 

of  silver  and  set  with  bright  stones,  turquoise,  and 
coral,  encircled  the  head,  and  from  this  hung  long 
chains  and  pendants  falling  to  the  shoulders.  This  is 
the  woman's  dowry,  with  which  she  never  parts,  wear- 
ing it  apparently  day  and  night.  The  women  them- 
selves, in  spite  of  the  dirt,  were  good-looking ;  fine 
eyes,  rather  good  though  heavy  features,  a  skin 
darkened  by  the  sun  and  wind,  gave  them  the  look 
of  peasants  of  southern  Europe.  In  bearing  they 
were  much  gayer  and  more  unconstrained  than  the 
Chinese. 

Mongolia,  the  land  of  many  names,  with  a  great 
past  and  perhaps  with  a  future,  but  to-day  merely  a 
pawn  in  the  world's  game,  is  a  great  plateau  rising 
some  four  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  the  eastern 
extension  of  the  T'ien-Shan,  or  "  Heavenly  Moun- 
tains." It  stretches  east  and  west  nearly  two  thou- 
sand miles,  but  its  north  and  south  width  is  only 
about  nine  hundred.  In  the  central  part  of  the  pla- 
teau is  a  huge  depression  which  the  Mongol  calls 
Gobi,  the  "  Desert,"  or  Shamo,  the  "  Great  Sand," 
and  the  Chinese,  Han-Hai,  or  "  Rainless  Sea."  To 
the  north  the  high  land  rises  and  breaks  into  the 
wooded  hills  and  mountains  of  the  Altai  Range,  and 
there  are  many  streams,  most  of  them  finding  their 
way  sooner  or  later  into  the  Amur.  To  the  south  the 
land  rolls  in  great  grassy  waves  up  to  the  foot  of 
the  mountain  barrier  along  the  Chinese  frontier,  but 


252  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

the  forests  have  all  been  swept  away,  and  the  few 
streams  quickly  lose  themselves  in  the  ground.  Over 
most  of  the  seven  hundred  miles  between  Kalgan 
and  Urga  there  are  no  trees  save  half  a  dozen  scrub 
elms,  and  the  only  rivers  are  the  Sha  Ho,  or  "  Rivers 
of  Sand."  But  the  grassland,  after  the  summer  rains 
have  set  in,  is  like  the  rolling  prairies  of  the  West, 
and  even  in  Gobi  there  are  only  about  fifty  miles 
quite  without  vegetation.  Elsewhere  there  is  a  sparse 
growth  of  coarse  scrub  broken  by  stretches  of  rock 
and  sand. 

In  crossing  Gobi  one  sees  here  and  there  a  marsh 
or  shallow  salt  lake,  telling  of  a  different  climate  in 
a  bygone  time,  but  to-day  the  passing  caravan  de- 
pends on  wells  of  varying  depth,  and  found  at  ir- 
regular intervals,  — ten,  twenty,  even  fifty  miles  apart. 
They  date  back  beyond  the  tradition  of  living  men, 
and  each  has  its  name  and  character.  In  some  the 
water  is  never-failing,  in  others  it  quickly  runs  dry. 
Occasionlly  it  is  slightly  brackish,  but  usually  it  is  clear 
and  cold.  Without  these  wells  the  three  hundred 
miles  of  Gobi  would  impose  an  almost  impassable 
barrier  between  North  and  South  Mongolia.  As  it  is, 
the  desert  takes  its  toll  from  the  passing  caravan ; 
thirst,  hunger,  heat,  and  cold  count  their  victims 
among  the  animals  by  thousands,  and  the  way  is 
marked  by  their  bleaching  bones. 

This  great,  featureless,  windswept  plateau  keeps 


THE  MONGOLIAN   GRASSLAND      253 

but  a  scanty  population  of  less  than  three  millions. 
On  the  northern  and  southern  borders  a  few  among 
the  people  have  adopted  the  settled  ways  of  the  Chi- 
nese ;  but  elsewhere  they  live  as  their  fathers  lived 
before  them,  their  fields  the  land  where  the  flocks  are 
grazing,  their  home  the  spot  where  the  yurts  are 
temporarily  set  up.  Nomads  they  are,  but  within  de- 
finite limits,  moving  no  long  distance  nor  very  often. 
Over  them  rule  their  native  princes  or  khans,  subject, 
up  to  last  year,  nominally  to  China ;  but  Chinese  in- 
terference has  mostly  been  confined  to  the  exaction  of 
a  tribute — and  a  good  part  of  that  stuck  to  the  fingers 
of  the  princes  through  whose  hands  it  passed  —  and 
to  occasional  demand  for  police  or  military  service. 
The  head  of  the  Chinese  administration  is  or  was  the 
Amban  at  Urga,  and  his  duties  seemed  to  consist  in 
looking  after  the  Chinese  traders  there  and  keeping 
a  watchful  eye  on  the  Living  Buddha,  the  spiritual 
and  maybe  now  the  political  head  of  Mongolia.  But 
in  spite  of  his  many  rulers,  or  perhaps  because  of 
them,  the  Mongol  seems  to  know  little  of  the  evils  or 
benefits  of  government.  It  is  far  away,  it  does  little 
for  him,  but  in  turn  its  demands  are  small. 

The  Mongol's  wealth  consists  in  his  herds ;  horses, 
cattle,  sheep,  camels.  In  our  sense  he  owns  no  land, 
but  if  he  digs  a  well,  which,  I  believe,  he  rarely  does, 
he  has  certain  rights  over  it,  and  his  claims  to  the 
water  and  grass  near  his  yurt  should  be  respected. 


254  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

His  friends  have  to  admit  that  the  Mongol  is  lazy. 
His  chief  duty  is  to  keep  an  eye  on  his  herds,  but 
mostly  they  take  care  of  themselves.  Each  drove  of 
horses  is  in  the  charge  of  a  stallion  which  looks 
sharply  after  the  mares,  fighting  savagely  with  any 
other  stallion  which  attempts  to  join  the  herd.  I  am 
told  that  the  owner  only  needs  to  count  his  stallions 
to  be  sure  that  all  the  mares  have  come  home.  There 
is  almost  nothing  of  Mongolian  manufacture,  — just 
rugs  and  felt  and  saddles ;  and  most  of  the  work  is 
done  by  the  women.  Nor  does  the  Mongol  till  the 
soil ;  nothing  is  found  growing  near  his  yurt.  Unlike 
the  rice-eating  people  just  across  the  Great  Wall,  his 
diet  is  almost  wholly  meat,  and  milk  in  some  form  or 
other,  —  cheese,  curds,  koumiss.  The  tea  which  he 
drinks  in  enormous  quantities,  so  that  even  my  "  boy  " 
opened  his  eyes,  is  brought  by  the  Chinese  traders. 
The  Mongol  has  great  endurance ;  days  in  the  sad- 
dle are  nothing  to  him,  and  he  sleeps  as  soundly  on 
his  camel  as  on  the  ground.  Nor  does  he  seem  to 
mind  heat  or  cold.  I  have  seen  them  wearing  sheep- 
skin coats  in  the  blazing  summer  sun,  and  at  night 
the  men  on  the  march  would  throw  themselves  down 
without  a  rug  or  mat  under  the  open  sky,  and  the 
nights  were  often  cold.  If  he  must,  the  Mongol  can 
go  a  long  time  without  eating,  but  when  the  chance 
comes  he  is  a  great  glutton,  bolting  enormous  quan- 
tities of  half-cooked  meat.  Drunkenness,  I  am  told, 


THE  MONGOLIAN   GRASSLAND      255 

is  a  Mongol  failing.  By  preference  he  gets  drunk  on 
whiskey ;  failing  that,  on  a  sort  of  arrack  of  soured 
mare's  milk.  On  the  other  hand,  the  opium  habit  does 
not  seem  to  have  crossed  the  frontier.  Very  rarely  is 
a  Mongol  addicted  to  that.  But  they  all  smoke  to- 
bacco,—  men,  women,  and  children,  —  just  as  they 
all  ride.  To  appreciate  the  Mongol  you  must  see  him 
on  horseback,  —  and  indeed  you  rarely  see  him 
otherwise,  for  he  does  not  put  foot  to  ground  if  he 
can  help  it.  The  Mongol  without  his  pony  is  only  half 
a  Mongol,  but  with  his  pony  he  is  as  good  as  two 
men.  It  is  a  fine  sight  to  see  him  tearing  over  the 
plain,  loose  bridle,  easy  seat,  much  like  the  Western 
cowboy,  but  with  less  sprawl. 

The  Mongol  of  to-day  is  the  degenerate  son  of  the 
conquering  warriors  of  a  thousand  years  ago.  Once 
his  name  carried  terror  to  the  shores  of  the  Midland 
Sea.  Now  those  who  do  not  like  him  can  say  with  some 
truth  that  he  lives  the  life  of  an  animal,  mating  rather 
than  marrying,  his  warlike  spirit  gone,  his  home  a 
lair,  his  chief  pleasures  gorging  and  getting  drunk ; 
but  those  who  do  like  him  —  and  they  are  the  ones 
who  know  him  best  —  declare  he  is  a  good  fellow, 
gay,  good-tempered,  independent,  hospitable. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI 

TOWARD  the  end  of  the  third  day  from  Kalgan 
we  were  following  a  blind  trail  among  low, 
grass-covered  hills,  all  about  us  beautiful  pasture- 
land  dotted  over  with  herds  of  horses  and  cattle.  A 
sharp  turn  in  the  road  revealed  a  group  of  yurts  like 
many  that  we  had  passed,  but  two  khaki  tents  a  little 
at  one  side  showed  the  European,  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes I  found  myself  among  the  new  friends  that  so 
speedily  become  old  friends  in  the  corners  of  the 
world. 

Here  I  was  to  make  the  real  start  for  my  journey 
across  the  desert,  and  by  good  luck  it  turned  out  that 
one  member  of  the  little  settlement,  a  man  wise  in 
ways  Mongolian,  was  leaving  the  next  morning  for 
a  trip  into  the  heart  of  Mongolia,  and  if  I  went  on  at 
once  we  could  journey  together  for  the  two  or  three 
days  that  our  ways  coincided.  There  was  nothing  to 
detain  me,  fortunately,  and  by  noon  the  next  day  I 
was  again  on  the  road. 

I  looked  with  some  complacency  at  my  compact 
but  wholly  adequate  little  caravan.  My  luggage,  in- 
cluding a  capacious  Chinese  cotton  tent,  was  scien- 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI     257 

tifically  stowed  away  in  a  small  Russian  baggage 
cart,  a  strong,  rough,  two-wheeled  affair  drawn  by 
two  ponies,  and  driven  by  the  Mongol  who  was  to 
guide  me  to  Urga.  My  boy  bestrode  rather  gingerly 
a  strong,  wiry  little  Mongol  pony,  of  the  "  buckskin  " 
sort,  gay  with  Western  saddle  and  red  cloth.  Wang 
bravely  said  he  would  do  his  best  to  ride  the  pony 
when  I  did  not  care  to  use  him,  but  he  added  pa- 
thetically that  he  had  never  before  mounted  any- 
thing save  a  donkey.  As  for  me,  I  sat  proudly  in  an 
American  buggy,  a  "  truly  "  one,  brought  from  the 
United  States  to  Tientsin  and  then  overland  to  Kal- 
gan.  It  was  destined  for  a  Mongol  prince  in  Urga, 
and  I  was  given  the  honour  of  taking  it  across  the 
desert.  There  are  various  ways  of  crossing  Mongolia, 
in  the  saddle,  by  pony,  or  camel  cart ;  one  and  all  are 
tiring ;  the  desert  takes  its  toll  of  the  body  and  the 
spirit.  But  here  was  a  new  way,  and  if  comfort  in 
Gobi  is  obtainable  it  is  in  an  American  buggy ;  and 
with  a  pony  for  change,  no  wonder  I  faced  the  desert 
without  dismay. 

The  combined  caravans  looked  very  imposing  as 
we  moved  off.  All  told,  we  were  one  Swede,  one 
American,  one  Chinese,  seven  Mongols,  one  Irish- 
man (Jack),  and  twelve  horses,  Three  of  the  Mon- 
gols were  lamas,  the  rest  were  laymen,  or  "  black 
men,"  so  called  from  their  unshorn  black  hair  worn 
in  a  queue.  They  were  all  dressed  much  alike,  al- 


258  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

though  one  of  the  lamas  had  clothes  of  the  proper 
red  colour,  and  all  rode  their  sturdy  ponies  well, 
mounted  on  high-peaked  saddles. 

After  the  first  day  we  fell  into  our  regular  course, 
an  early  start  at  six  o'clock  or  so,  long  halt  at  noon, 
when  tents  were  set  up,  and  all  rested  while  the 
horses  grazed,  and  then  on  again  until  the  sun  went 
down  below  the  horizon.  During  the  hotter  hours  I 
took  my  ease  in  the  buggy,  but  in  the  early  morn- 
ing, and  at  the  end  of  the  day  I  rode.  The  Mongols 
were  gay  young  fellows,  taking  a  kindly  interest  in 
my  doings.  One,  the  wag  of  the  party,  was  bent  on 
learning  to  count  in  English,  and  each  time  he  came 
by  me  he  chanted  his  lesson  over,  adding  number 
after  number  until  he  reached  twenty.  The  last  few 
miles  before  getting  into  camp  was  the  time  for  a 
good  race.  Then,  riding  up  with  thumbs  held  high 
in  greeting,  they  would  cry  to  me  "San?"  ("All 
right?")  and  answering  back  "San!"  I  touch  my 
horse  and  we  are  off.  Oh,  the  joy  of  those  gallops 
with  the  horsemen  of  the  desert  1  For  the  moment 
you  are  mad.  Your  nomad  ancestors  —  we  all  have 
them  —  awake  in  you,  and  it  is  touch  and  go  but  you 
turn  your  back  forever  on  duties  and  dining,  on  all 
the  bonds  and  frills  that  we  have  entangled  ourselves 
in — and  then  you  remember,  and  go  sadly  to  bed. 

The  weather  was  delightful ;  whatever  there  might 
be  in  store  for  me,  the  present  was  perfect.  A  glori- 


JACK   AND   HIS   LAMA  FRIEND 


MY   CARAVAN   ACROSS   MONGOLIA 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT   OF  GOBI     259 

ous  dawn,  no  severe  heat  but  for  a  short  time  in  the 
middle  of  the  day,  which  cooled  off  rapidly  in  the  late 
afternoon,  the  short  twilight  ending  in  cold,  starlit 
nights.  The  wonder  of  those  Mongolian  nights  !  My 
tent  was  always  pitched  a  little  apart  from  the  con- 
fusion of  the  camp,  and  lying  wrapped  in  rugs  in  my 
narrow  camp-bed  before  the  doors  open  to  the  night 
wind,  I  fell  asleep  in  the  silence  of  the  limitless  space 
of  the  desert,  and  woke  only  as  the  stars  were  fading 
in  the  sky. 

At  first  we  were  still  in  the  grassland ;  the  rolling 
country  was  covered  with  a  thick  mat  of  grass  dotted 
with  bright  flowers,  and  yurts  and  men  and  herds 
abounded.  Happenings  along  the  road  were  few. 
The  dogs  always  rushed  out  from  the  yurts  to  greet 
us.  They  looked  big  and  savage,  and  at  first,  mind- 
ful of  warnings,  I  kept  close  guard  over  Jack ;  but  he 
heeded  them  as  little  as  he  had  the  Chinese  curs,  and 
hardly  deigned  a  glance  as  he  trotted  gaily  along  by 
the  horses  who  had  captured  his  Irish  heart.  Once 
we  stopped  to  buy  a  pony,  and  secured  a  fine  "  cal- 
ico "  one,  unusually  large  and  strong.  Again  a  chance 
offered  to  get  a  sheep,  not  always  possible  even 
though  thousands  are  grazing  on  the  prairie,  for  a 
Mongol  will  sell  only  when  he  has  some  immediate 
use  for  money.  The  trade  once  made,  it  took  only  a 
short  time  to  do  the  rest,  —  to  kill,  to  cut  up,  to  boil 
in  a  big  pot  brought  for  the  purpose,  to  eat. 


260  A  WAYFARER  IN  CHINA 

Two  hundred  miles  from  Kalgan  we  passed  the 
telegraph  station  of  Pongkiong  manned  by  two 
Chinese.  It  is  nothing  but  a  little  wooden  building 
with  a  bit  of  a  garden.  The  Chinese  has  his  garden 
as  surely  as  the  Englishman,  only  he  spends  his  energy 
in  growing  things  to  eat.  At  long  intervals,  two  hun- 
dred miles,  these  stations  are  found  all  the  way  to 
Urga  and  always  in  the  charge  of  Chinese,  service- 
able, alien,  homesick.  It  must  be  a  dreary  life  set 
down  in  the  desert  without  neighbours  or  visitors  save 
the  roving  Mongol  whom  the  Chinese  look  down 
on  with  lofty  contempt.  Indeed,  they  have  no  use 
for  him  save  as  a  bird  to  be  plucked,  and  plucked 
the  poor  nomad  is,  even  to  his  last  feather.  It  is  not 
the  Chinese  Government  but  the  Chinese  people  that 
oppress  the  Mongol,  making  him  ready  to  seek  re- 
lief anywhere.  Playing  upon  his  two  great  weak- 
nesses, lack  of  thrift  and  love  of  drink,  the  wandering 
trader  plies  the  Mongol  with  whiskey,  and  then,  tak- 
ing advantage  of  his  befuddled  wits,  gets  him  to  take 
a  lot  of  useless  things  at  cut-throat  prices  —  but  no 
bother  about  paying,  that  can  be  settled  any  time. 
Only  when  pay-day  comes  the  debts,  grown  like  a 
rolling  snowball,  must  be  met,  and  so  horses  and 
cattle,  the  few  pitiful  heirlooms,  are  swallowed  up, 
and  the  Mongol  finds  himself  afoot  and  out  of  doors, 
another  enemy  of  Chinese  rule. 

Whenever  we  halted  near  yurts,  the  women  turned 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT   OF  GOBI     261 

out  to  see  me,  invading  my  tent,  handling  my  things. 
They  seemed  to  hold  silk  in  high  esteem.  My  silk 
blouses  were  much  admired,  and  when  they  investi- 
gated far  enough  to  discover  that  I  wore  silk  "  knick- 
ers," their  wonder  knew  no  bounds.  In  turn  they 
were  always  keen  to  show  their  treasures,  especially 
of  course  their  headdresses,  which  were  sometimes 
very  beautiful,  costing  fifty,  one  hundred,  or  two 
hundred  taels. 

A  wife  comes  high  in  Mongolia,  and  divorce  must 
be  paid  for.  A  man's  parents  buy  him  a  wife,  paying 
for  her  a  good  sum  of  money  which  is  spent  in  pur- 
chasing her  headgear.  If  a  husband  is  dissatisfied  with 
his  bargain  he  may  send  his  wife  home,  but  she  takes 
her  dowry  with  her.  I  am  told  the  woman's  lot  is 
very  hard,  and  that  I  can  readily  believe :  it  generally 
is  among  poor  and  backward  peoples ;  but  she  did 
not  appear  to  me  the  downtrodden  slave  she  is  often 
described.  On  the  contrary,  she  appeared  as  much  a 
man  as  her  husband,  smoking,  riding  astride,  manag- 
ing the  camel  trains  with  a  dexterity  equal  to  his. 
Her  household  cares  cannot  be  very  burdensome,  no 
garden  to  tend,  no  housecleaning,  simple  cooking 
and  sewing;  but  by  contrast  with  the  man  she  is 
hard-working.  Vanity  is  nowise  extinct  in  the  femi- 
nine Mongol,  and,  let  all  commercial  travellers  take 
note,  I  was  frequently  asked  for  soap,  and  nothing 
seemed  to  give  so  much  pleasure  as  when  I  doled 


262  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

out  a  small  piece.  Perhaps  in  time  even  the  Mongol 
will  look  clean.  Asiatics  as  a  rule  know  little  about 
soap ;  they  clean  their  clothes  by  pounding,  and  them- 
selves by  rubbing ;  but  sometimes  they  put  an  exag- 
gerated value  upon  it.  A  Kashmir  woman,  seeing 
herself  in  a  mirror  side  by  side  with  the  fair  face  of 
an  English  friend  of  mine,  sighed,  "If  I  had  such 
good  soap  as  yours  I  too  would  be  white." 

But  there  is  a  good  deal  to  be  said  against  wash- 
ing, at  least  one's  face,  when  crossing  Gobi.  The  dry, 
scorching  winds  burn  and  blister  the  skin,  and  wash- 
ing makes  things  worse,  and  besides  you  are  some- 
times short  of  water ;  so  for  a  fortnight  my  face  was 
washed  by  the  rains  of  heaven  (if  at  all),  and  my  hair 
certainly  looked  as  though  it  were  combed  by  the 
wind,  for  between  the  rough  riding  and  the  stiff 
breezes  that  sweep  over  the  plateau,  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  keep  tidy.  But,  thanks  to  Wang,  I  could  al- 
ways maintain  a  certain  air  of  respectability  in  putting 
on  each  morning  freshly  polished  shoes. 

Of  wild  life  I  saw  little ;  occasionally  we  passed  a 
few  antelope,  and  twice  we  spied  wolves  not  far  off. 
These  Mongolian  wolves  are  big  and  savage,  often 
attacking  the  herds,  and  one  alone  will  pull  down  a 
good  horse  or  steer.  The  people  wage  more  or  less 
unsuccessful  war  upon  them  and  at  times  they  organ- 
ize a  sort  of  battue.  Men,  armed  with  lassoes,  are 
stationed  at  strategic  points,  while  others,  routing  the 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF   GOBI     263 

wolves  from  their  lair,  drive  them  within  reach.  Sand 
grouse  were  plentiful,  half  running,  half  flying  before 
us  as  we  advanced,  and  when  we  were  well  in  the 
desert  we  saw  eagles  in  large  numbers,  and  farther 
north  the  marmots  abounded,  in  appearance  and 
ways  much  like  prairie  dogs. 

At  first  there  were  herds  on  every  side.  I  was 
struck  by  the  number  of  white  and  grey  ponies,  and 
was  told  that  horses  are  bred  chiefly  for  the  market  in 
China,  and  this  is  the  Chinese  preference.  Cattle  and 
sheep  are  numbered  by  thousands,  but  I  believe  these 
fine  pasture  lands  could  maintain  many  more.  Occa- 
sionally we  saw  camels  turned  loose  for  the  summer 
grazing ;  they  are  all  of  the  two-humped  Bactrian 
sort,  and  can  endure  the  most  intense  winter  cold, 
but  the  heat  of  the  summer  tells  upon  them  severely, 
and  when  used  in  the  hot  season,  it  is  generally  only 
at  night. 

From  time  to  time  we  passed  long  baggage  trains, 
a  hundred  or  more  two- wheeled  carts,  each  drawn 
by  a  bullock  attached  to  the  tail  of  the  wagon  in 
front.  They  move  at  snail's  pace,  perhaps  two  miles 
an  hour,  and  take  maybe  eight  weeks  to  make  the 
trip  across  the  desert.  Once  we  met  the  Russian  par- 
cels-post, a  huge  heavily  laden  cart  drawn  by  a  camel 
and  guarded  by  Cossacks  mounted  on  camels,  their 
uniforms  and  smart  white  visored  caps  looking  very 
comical  on  the  top  of  their  shambling  steeds.  Most 


264  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

of  the  caravans  were  in  charge  of  Chinese,  and  they 
thronged  about  us  if  a  chance  offered  to  inspect 
the  strange  trap ;  especially  the  light  spider  wheels 
aroused  their  interest.  They  tried  to  lift  them,  meas- 
ured the  rim  with  thumb  and  finger,  investigated 
the  springs,  their  alert  curiosity  showing  an  intelli- 
gence that  I  missed  in  the  Mongols,  to  whom  we 
were  just  a  sort  of  travelling  circus,  honours  being 
easy  between  the  buggy,  and  Jack  and  me. 

We  were  now  in  the  Gobi.  The  rich  green  of  the 
grassland  had  given  way  to  a  sparse  vegetation  of 
scrub  and  tufts  of  coarse  grass  and  weeds,  and  the 
poor  horses  were  hard  put  to  get  enough,  even 
though  they  grazed  all  night.  The  country,  which 
was  more  broken  and  seamed  with  gullies  and  rivers 
of  sand,  Sha  Ho,  had  taken  on  a  hard,  sunbaked,  re- 
pellent look,  brightened  only  by  splendid  crimson 
and  blue  thistles.  The  wells  were  farther  apart,  and 
sometimes  they  were  dry,  and  there  were  anxious 
hours  when  we  were  not  sure  of  water  for  ourselves, 
still  less  for  the  horses.  One  well  near  a  salt  lake  was 
rather  brackish.  This  lake  is  a  landmark  in  the  en- 
tire region  round  ;  it  seems  to  be  slowly  shrinking,  and 
many  caravans  camp  here  to  collect  the  salt,  which 
is  taken  south.  The  weather,  too,  had  changed ;  the 
days  were  hotter  and  dryer,  but  the  nights  were  cool 
and  refreshing  always. 

For  eleven  days  we  saw  no  houses  but  the  two 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF   GOBI     265 

telegraph  stations,  save  once  early  in  the  morning 
when  we  came  without  warning  upon  a  lamassery 
that  seemed  to  start  up  out  of  the  ground  ;  the  open 
desert  hides  as  well  as  reveals.  It  was  a  group  of 
flat-roofed,  whitewashed  buildings,  one  larger  than 
the  rest,  all  wrapped  in  silence.  There  was  no  sign 
of  life  as  we  passed  except  a  red  lama  who  made 
a  bright  spot  against  the  white  wall,  and  a  camel 
tethered  in  a  corner,  and  it  looked  very  solitary  and 
desolate,  set  down  in  the  middle  of  the  great,  empty, 
dun-coloured  plain. 

I  had  now  separated  from  my  travelling  compan- 
ions, cheering  the  friendly  Mongols  with  some  of  my 
bountiful  supply  of  cigarettes.  As  they  rode  off  they 
gave  me  the  Mongol  greeting,  "  Peace  go  with  you." 
I  should  have  been  glad  to  have  kept  on  the  red 
lama  to  Urga,  for  he  had  been  very  helpful  in  look- 
ing after  my  wants,  and  had  befriended  poor  Jack, 
who  was  quite  done  up  for  a  while  by  the  hot  desert 
sands;  but  I  let  him  go  well  pleased  with  a  little 
bottle  of  boracic  acid  solution  for  his  sore  eyes.  The 
Mongols,  like  so  many  Eastern  peoples,  suffer  much 
from  inflammation  of  the  eyes,  the  result  of  dirt,  and 
even  more  of  the  acrid  argol  smoke  filling  the  yurts 
so  that  often  I  was  compelled  to  take  flight.  I  expect 
the  stern  old  Jesuit  would  say  of  them  as  he  did  of 
the  Red  Indian,  "They  pass  their  lives  in  smoke, 
eternity  in  flames." 


266  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

For  about  eight  days  we  were  crossing  the  desert, 
one  day  much  like  another.  Sometimes  the  track 
was  all  up  and  down  :  we  topped  a  swell  of  ground 
only  to  see  before  us  another  exactly  like  it.  Then 
for  many  miles  together  the  land  was  as  flat  and  as 
smooth  as  a  billiard  table,  no  rocks,  no  roll ;  and  we 
chased  a  never-ending  line  of  telegraph  poles  over  a 
never-ending  waste  of  sand.  Another  day  we  were 
traversing  from  dawn  till  sundown  an  evil-looking 
land  strewn  with  boulders  and  ribs  of  rock,  bleak, 
desolate,  forbidding. 

Nowhere  were  there  signs  of  life,  nothing  grow- 
ing, nothing  moving.  For  days  together  we  saw  no 
yurts,  and  more  than  one  day  passed  without  our 
meeting  any  one.  Once  there  appeared  suddenly  on 
the  white  track  before  us  a  solitary  figure,  looking 
very  pitiful  in  the  great  plain.  When  it  came  near  it 
fell  on  its  face  in  the  sand  at  our  feet,  begging  for 
food.  It  was  a  Chinese  returning  home  from  Urga, 
walking  all  the  seven  hundred  miles  across  the  desert 
to  Kalgan.  We  helped  him  as  best  we  could,  but  he 
was  not  the  only  one. 

An  old  red  lama,  mounted  on  a  camel  and  bound 
for  Urga,  kept  near  us  for  two  or  three  days,  sleeping 
at  night  with  my  men  by  the  cart,  and  sometimes 
taking  shelter  under  my  tent  at  noon,  where  he  sat 
quietly  by  the  hour  smoking  my  cigarettes.  He  was 
a  nice  old  fellow  with  pleasant  ways,  nearly  choking 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI     267 

himself  in  efforts  to  make  me  understand  how  won- 
derful I  was,  travelling  all  alone,  and  what  splendid 
sights  I  should  behold  in  Urga. 

And  so  time  passed ;  tiring,  monotonous  days,  re- 
freshing, glorious  nights,  and  then  toward  the  end  of 
a  long,  weary  afternoon  I  saw  for  a  moment,  faintly 
outlined  in  the  blank  northern  horizon,  a  cloud?  a 
mountain  ?  a  rock  ?  I  hardly  dared  trust  my  eyes,  and 
I  looked  again  and  again.  Yes,  it  was  a  mountain,  a 
mountain  of  rocks  just  as  I  was  told  it  would  loom  up 
in  front  of  me  for  a  moment,  and  then  disappear ; 
and  it  disappeared,  and  I  rejoiced,  for  at  its  base  the 
desert  ended  ;  beyond  lay  a  land  of  grass  and  streams. 

We  camped  that  evening  just  off  the  trail  in  a  little 
grassy  hollow.  In  the  night  rain  fell,  tapping  gently 
on  my  tent  wall,  and  for  hours  there  mingled  with 
the  sound  of  the  falling  rain  the  dull  clang  of  bells,  as 
a  long  bullock  train  crawled  along  in  the  dark  on  its 
way  to  Urga. 

The  next  day  rose  cloudless  as  before.  My  land- 
mark could  no  longer  be  seen,  but  I  knew  it  was  not 
far  off,  "  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land,"  and  already 
the  air  was  fresher  and  the  country  seemed  to  have 
put  on  a  tinge  of  green. 

In  the  afternoon  a  little  cavalcade  of  wild,  pictur- 
esque-looking men  dashed  down  upon  us  in  true  Mon- 
gol style,  trailing  the  lasso  poles  as  they  galloped. 
With  a  gay  greeting  they  turned  their  horses  about, 


268  A  WAYFARER   IN   CHINA 

and  kept  pace  with  us  while  they  satisfied  their  curi- 
osity. This  was  my  first  sight  of  the  northern  Mon- 
gol, who  differs  little  from  his  brother  of  the  south, 
save  that  he  is  less  touched  by  Chinese  influence.  In 
dress  he  is  more  picturesque,  and  the  tall,  peaked  hat 
generally  worn  recalled  old-time  pictures  of  the  in- 
vading Mongol  hordes. 

The  great  mountain  had  again  come  in  sight, 
crouching  like  a  huge  beast  of  prey  along  the  boul- 
der-strewn plain.  But  where  was  the  famous  lamas- 
sery  that  lay  at  its  foot  ?  Threading  our  way  through 
a  wilderness  of  rock,  heaped  up  in  sharp  confusion, 
we  came  out  on  a  little  ridge,  and  there  before  us 
lay  Tuerin,  —  not  a  house  but  a  village,  built  in 
and  out  among  the  rocks.  It  was  an  extraordinary 
sight  to  stumble  upon,  here  on  the  edge  of  the  unin- 
habited desert.  A  little  apart  from  the  rest  were  four 
large  temples  crowned  with  gilt  balls  and  fluttering 
banners,  and  leading  off  from  them  were  neat  rows 
of  small  white  plastered  cottages  with  red  timbers, 
the  homes  of  the  two  thousand  lamas  who  live  here. 
The  whole  thing  had  the  look  of  a  seaside  camp- 
meeting  resort.  A  few  herds  of  ponies  were  grazing 
near  by,  but  there  was  no  tilled  land,  and  these  hun- 
dreds of  lamas  are  supported  in  idleness  by  contribu- 
tions extorted  from  the  priest-ridden  people.  A  group 
of  them,  rather  repulsive-looking  men,  came  out  to 
meet  us,  or  else  to  keep  us  off.  As  it  was  growing 


HORSEMEN   OF   THE  DESERT,   NORTH   MONGOLIA 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI     269 

late,  and  we  had  not  yet  reached  our  camping-place, 
I  did  not  linger  long. 

We  camped  that  night  in  the  shadow  of  the  moun- 
tain. The  ground  was  carpeted  with  artemisia,  which 
when  crushed  gave  out  a  pungent  odour  almost  over- 
powering. Before  turning  in  we  received  a  visit  from 
a  Chinese  trader  who  gave  us  a  friendly  warning  to 
look  out  for  horse-thieves ;  he  had  lost  a  pony  two 
nights  back.  Here,  then,  were  the  brigands  at  last  1 
For  the  next  three  nights  we  kept  sharp  watch,  camp- 
ing far  off  the  road  and  bringing  the  ponies  in  around 
my  tent  before  we  went  to  sleep.  One  night,  indeed, 
the  two  men  took  turns  in  sitting  up.  Fortunately 
my  Chinese  boy  and  the  Mongol  hit  it  off  well,  for 
the  Mongol  will  not  stand  bullying,  and  the  Chinese 
is  inclined  to  lord  it  over  the  natives.  But  Wang  was 
a  good  soul,  anxious  to  save  me  bother,  and  ready 
to  turn  his  hand  to  anything,  putting  up  tents,  sad- 
dling ponies,  collecting  fuel,  willing  always  to  follow 
the  Mongol's  lead  —  save  only  in  the  matter  of  getting 
up  in  the  morning.  Then  it  was  Wang  who  got  us 
started  each  day,  lighting  the  fire  before  he  fell  upon 
Tchagan  Hou  and  pulled  him  out  of  his  sheepskin  ; 
but  once  up,  the  Mongol  took  quiet  and  efficient 
control. 

At  Tuerin  country  and  weather  changed.  There 
was  now  abundance  of  grass,  and  the  ponies  could 
make  up  for  the  lean  days  past.  Thousands  of  cattle 


270  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

and  sheep  again  gladdened  our  eyes,  and  the  pony 
herds  were  a  splendid  sight ;  hundreds  of  beautiful 
creatures,  mostly  chestnut  or  black,  were  grazing 
near  the  trail  or  galloping  free  with  flowing  mane 
and  tail. 

We  had  been  warned  that  the  rainy  season  was 
setting  in  early,  and  for  three  days  we  met  storm  af- 
ter storm,  delaying  us  for  hours,  sometimes  keeping 
us  in  camp  a  day  or  more.  We  stopped  for  tiffin  the 
first  day  just  in  time  to  escape  a  drenching,  and  did 
not  get  away  again  until  six  o'clock.  As  some  Chinese 
pony  traders  had  encamped  alongside  of  us,  and 
there  were  two  or  three  yurts  not  far  away,  I  did  not 
lack  amusement.  The  Mongolian  women  camped 
down  in  my  tent  as  soon  as  it  was  up,  making  them- 
selves much  at  home.  One  was  young  and  rather 
good-looking,  and  all  wore  the  striking  headdress  of 
North  Mongolia.  Like  that  of  the  south,  it  was  of 
silver,  set  with  bright  stones,  but  it  was  even  more 
elaborate  in  design,  and  the  arrangement  of  the  hair 
was  most  extraordinary.  Parted  from  brow  to  nape 
of  the  neck,  the  two  portions  were  arranged  in  large 
plastered  structures  like  ears  on  either  side  of  the 
head ;  these  extended  out  almost  to  the  width  of  the 
shoulder,  and  were  kept  in  place  by  bars  of  wood  or 
silver,  the  two  ends  of  hair  being  braided  and  brought 
forward  over  the  breast.  This  is  the  style  of  head- 
dressing  adopted  at  marriage  and  rarely  meddled 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI     271 

with  afterwards.  The  dress,  too,  of  these  northern 
Mongol  women  was  striking.  Over  their  usual  loose, 
unbelted  garment  (the  Mongol  for  "  woman  "  means 
"  unbelted  one  ")  they  wore  short  coats  of  blue  cotton 
with  red  sleeves,  and  the  tops  of  these  were  so  raised 
and  stiffened  that  they  almost  raked  the  wearer's 
ears.  On  their  feet  they  had  high  leather  boots  just 
like  their  husbands',  and  if  they  wore  a  hat  it  was  of 
the  same  tall,  peaked  sort.  The  sight  of  a  Mongol 
woman  astride  a  galloping  pony  was  not  a  thing  to 
be  forgotten ;  ears  of  hair  flapping,  high  hat  inse- 
curely poised  on  top,  silver  ornaments  and  white 
teeth  flashing. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  before  we  camped  that  night, 
but  we  did  not  get  off  the  next  day  until  afternoon 
because  of  the  rain,  and  again  it  was  nine  in  the 
evening  when  we  pitched  our  tent  in  a  charming 
little  dell  beautiful  with  great  thistles,  blue  with  the 
blue  of  heaven  in  the  lantern  light. 

The  next  day  I  was  getting  a  little  desperate,  and 
against  Tchagan  Hou's  advice  I  decided  to  try  bully- 
ing the  weather,  and  when  the  rain  came  on  again 
I  refused  to  stop.  As  a  result  we  were  all  soaked 
through,  and  after  getting  nearly  bogged,  all  hands 
of  us  in  a  quagmire,  I  gave  it  up  and  we  camped  on 
the  drenched  ground,  and  there  we  stayed  till  the 
middle  of  the  next  day  —  spending  most  of  our  time 
trying  to  get  dry.  The  argols  were  too  wet  to  burn, 


272  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

but  we  made  a  little  blaze  with  the  wood  of  my  soda- 
water  box.  For  two  days  we  had  tried  in  vain  to 
buy  a  sheep,  and  the  men's  provisions  were  running 
short.  If  it  had  not  been  for  the  generous  gift  of  the 
Kalgan  Foreign  Office,  we  should  have  fared  badly, 
but  Mongols  and  Chinese  alike  seemed  to  be  free 
from  inconvenient  prejudices,  and  my  men,  whom  I 
called  in  to  share  the  tent  with  me,  feasted  off  tins 
of  corned  beef,  bologna  sausage,  and  smoked  her- 
ring, washed  down  by  bowls  of  Pacific  Coast  canned 
peaches  and  plums ;  and  then  they  smoked ;  that 
comfort  was  always  theirs,  and  if  the  fire  burned  at 
all,  it  smoked,  too,  and  occasionally  a  drenched  trav- 
eller stopped  in  to  be  cheered  with  a  handful  of 
cigarettes.  And  then  all  curled  up  in  their  sheep- 
skins and  slept  away  long  hours,  and  I  also  slept  on 
my  little  camp-bed,  and  outside  the  rain  fell  steadily. 
But  at  last  a  morning  broke  clear  and  brilliant ; 
the  rain  was  really  over.  The  ponies  looked  full  and 
fit  after  the  good  rest,  and  if  all  went  well  we  should 
be  in  Urga  before  nightfall.  We  were  off  at  sunrise, 
and  soon  we  entered  a  beautiful  valley  flanked  on 
either  hand  by  respectable  hills,  their  upper  slopes 
clothed  with  real  forests  of  pine.  These  were  the  first 
trees  I  had  seen,  except  three  dwarfed  elms  in  Gobi, 
since  I  left  behind  the  poplars  and  willows  of  China. 
Yurts,  herds,  men  were  everywhere.  Two  Chinese 
that  we  met  on  the  road  stopped  to  warn  us  that  the 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI     273 

river  that  flowed  below  Urga  was  very  high  and  ris- 
ing fast,  hundreds  of  carts  were  waiting  until  the 
water  went  down,  and  they  doubted  if  we  could  get 
across.  This  was  not  encouraging,  but  we  pushed  on. 
It  was  plain  that  we  were  nearing  the  capital,  for  the 
scene  grew  more  and  more  lively.  At  first  I  thought 
it  must  be  a  holiday ;  but,  no,  it  was  just  the  ordi- 
nary day's  work,  but  all  so  picturesque,  so  full  of 
&lan  and  colour,  that  it  was  more  like  a  play  than 
real  life. 

Now  a  drove  of  beautiful  horses  dashed  across  the 
road,  the  herdsmen  in  full  cry  after  them.  Then  we 
passed  a  train  of  camels,  guided  by  two  women 
mounted  on  little  ponies.  They  had  tied  their  babies 
to  the  camels'  packs,  and  seemed  to  have  no  diffi- 
culty in  managing  their  wayward  beasts.  Here  a 
flock  of  sheep  grazed  peacefully  in  the  deep  green 
meadows  beside  the  trail,  undisturbed  by  a  group  of 
Mongols  galloping  townwards,  lasso  poles  in  hand, 
as  though  charging.  Two  women  in  the  charge  of 
a  yellow  lama  trotted  sedately  along,  their  quaint 
headdresses  flapping  as  they  rode.  Then  we  over- 
took three  camels  led  by  one  man  on  a  pony  and 
prodded  along  by  another,  actually  cantering,  —  I 
felt  I  must  hasten,  too,  —  but  unhurried,  undisturbed, 
scarcely  making  room  for  an  official  and  his  gay 
retinue  galloping  towards  the  capital,  a  bullock 
caravan  from  Kalgan  in  charge  of  half  a  dozen  blue- 


274  A  WAYFARER  IN  CHINA 

coated  Celestials  moved  sedately  along,  slow,  per- 
sistent, sure  to  gain  the  goal  in  good  time,  — that 
was  China  all  over. 

And  then  the  valley  opened  into  a  wide  plain 
seamed  by  many  rivers,  and  there  before  us,  on  the 
high  right  bank  of  the  Tola  and  facing  Bogda  Ola, 
the  Holy  Mountain,  lay  Urga  the  Sacred,  second  to 
Lhasa  only  in  the  Buddhist  world. 

But  we  were  not  there  yet ;  between  us  and  our 
goal  flowed  the  rivers  that  criss-cross  the  valley,  and 
the  long  lines  of  carts  and  horses  and  camels  and 
bullocks  crowded  on  the  banks  bore  out  the  tale  of 
the  Chinese.  We  push  on  to  the  first  ford ;  the  river, 
brimming  full,  whirls  along  at  a  great  rate,  but  a  few 
carts  are  venturing  in,  and  we  venture  too.  Tchagan 
leads  the  way,  I  follow  in  the  buggy,  while  the  boy 
on  the  pony  brings  up  the  rear,  Jack  swimming  joy- 
ously close  by.  The  first  time  is  great  fun,  and  so  is 
the  second,  but  the  third  is  rather  serious,  for  the 
river  gets  deeper  and  the  current  swifter  each  time. 
The  water  is  now  almost  up  to  the  floor  of  the  buggy, 
and  the  horse  can  hardly  keep  his  footing.  I  try  to 
hold  him  to  the  ford,  cheering  him  on  at  the  top  of 
my  voice,  but  the  current  carries  us  far  down  before 
we  can  make  the  opposite  bank. 

Four  times  we  crossed,  and  then  we  reached  a  ford 
that  seemed  unfordable.  Crowds  are  waiting,  but  no 
one  crosses.  Now  and  then  some  one  tries  it,  only  to 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI     275 

turn  back,  and  an  overturned  cart  and  a  drowned 
horse  show  the  danger.  But  we  decide  to  risk  it, 
hiring  two  Mongols,  a  lama  and  a  "  black  man,"  to 
guide  our  horses.  One,  on  his  own  mount,  takes  the 
big  cart  horse  by  the  head ;  the  other,  riding  my 
pony,  leads  the  buggy  horse.  Wang  comes  in  with 
me  and  holds  Jack.  The  crowds  watch  eagerly  as 
we  start  out ;  the  water  splashes  our  feet.  First  one 
horse,  then  another,  floundering  badly,  almost  goes 
down,  the  buggy  whirls  round  and  comes  within  an 
ace  of  upsetting,  the  little  dog's  excited  yaps  sound 
above  the  uproar.  Then  one  mighty  lurch  and  we 
are  up  the  bank.  Four  times  more  we  repeat  the 
performance,  and  at  last  we  find  ourselves  with  only 
a  strip  of  meadow  between  us  and  Mai-ma-chin,  the 
Chinese  settlement  where  we  plan  to  put  up.  Clat- 
tering along  the  stockaded  lane  we  stop  before  great 
wooden  gates  that  open  to  Tchagan's  call,  and  we 
are  invited  in  by  the  Mongol  trader  who,  warned  of 
our  coming,  stands  ready  to  bid  us  welcome. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

URGA,    THE  SACRED  CITY 

URGA  the  Sacred  City,  the  home  of  the  Gigin, 
the  Living  God,  third  in  the  Buddhist  hier- 
archy, is  not  so  much  one  city  as  three,  all  located  on 
a  high  ridge  above  the  Tola.  Each  is  distinct,  separ- 
ate, entrenched.  Arriving  from  the  south,  the  one 
you  reach  first  is  Mai-ma-chin,  the  Chinese  trading 
settlement,  a  tangle  of  small  houses  and  narrow  lanes 
hemmed  in  by  stockades  of  wooden  slabs  and  un- 
barked  fir  trees.  Here  are  the  eight  or  ten  thousand 
Chinese  who  control  the  trade  of  North  Mongolia. 
Apparently  they  make  a  good  living,  for  there  is  a 
prosperous  bustle  about  the  place,  and  as  you  pick 
your  way  over  the  mud  and  filth  of  the  streets, 
through  open  doorways  you  catch  glimpses  of  courts 
gay  with  flowers  and  gaudily  decorated  houses  such 
as  the  well-to-do  Chinese  build.  But  for  the  most 
part  dull  blank  walls  shut  you  out  —  or  in.  The  Chi- 
nese is  an  un welcomed  alien  in  Mongolia,  and  he 
knows  it. 

A  strip  of  waste,  treeless  land,  bare  of  everything 
save  a  group  of  "  chortens,"  that  look  like  small  pa- 
godas, and  a  few  yurts  and  sheds,  separates  Mai- 


URGA,  THE  SACRED   CITY  277 

ma-chin  from  the  Russian  settlement  which  occupies 
the  highest  part  of  the  ridge,  dominating  everything 
in  a  significant  way.  It  centres  in  the  consulate,  a 
large  white  building  surrounded  by  high  walls,  but 
more  prominent  is  the  tall  red  Russo-Asiatic  Bank 
close  by.  Other  buildings  are  a  church  and  a  few 
houses  and  shops.  The  Russian  Consulate  also  is 
well  fortified,  with  the  last  contrivances  for  defence, 
—  walls,  ditches,  wire  entanglements,  —  and  it  looks 
fit  to  stand  a  siege. 

Before  reaching  Urga  proper,  the  Mongol  or  lama 
city,  which  lies  about  three  miles  farther  west,  shut 
off  from  the  others  by  a  branch  of  the  Tola,  you  pass 
the  headquarters  of  the  Chinese  governor,  and  he, 
too,  has  entrenched  himself  behind  strong  earth- 
works. Ta  Huren,  the  "  Great  Encampment,"  as  the 
Mongols  call  Urga,  which  is  not  a  Mongol  word  at 
all,  but  merely  a  modification  of  the  Russian  "urgo," 
a  camp  or  palace,  is  a  network  of  palisaded  lanes 
enclosing,  not  comfortable  houses  and  offices  and 
banks,  as  in  Mai-ma-chin,  but  temples  and  lamasser- 
ies.  And  well  within  these  is  the  most  sacred  spot  of 
all,  the  lamassery  where  dwells  enthroned  Bogdo  or 
the  Gigin,  the  Living  Buddha  ranking  after  the  Dalai 
Lama  and  the  Tashi  Lama  only. 

To  Bogdo  the  Mongol  millions  look  up  as  a  god ; 
he  is  the  living  representative  of  the  divine  one  ;  and 
the  city  where  he  lives  is  the  goal  of  thousands  of 


278  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

pilgrims  each  year.  And  what  do  they  see  ?  —  until 
late  years,  just  a  feeble,  untaught  child.  When  the 
Bogdo  dies,  his  soul  is  reincarnated  in  the  body  of  a 
newly  born  male  child.  For  a  hundred  years  or  more 
that  child  has  been  always  Tibetan,  not  Mongolian ; 
probably  the  Chinese  Government  knows  why.  And 
the  lamas  who  swarm  the  sacred  encampment,  de- 
based representatives  of  a  debased  religion,  probably 
could  tell,  if  they  would,  why,  in  the  past,  the  child 
has  never  lived  to  be  a  man.  Furthermore,  the  Rus- 
sian Consul-General  at  Urga  probably  knows  the 
secret  of  the  long  life  of  the  present  incumbent,  who 
is  well  past  the  time  that  has  proved  so  fatal  to  his 
predecessors. 

Politics  sordid  and  gruesome  are  active  within  the 
gaily  decorated  walls  of  the  sacred  lamassery.  But 
all  that  the  outsider  sees  is  a  weak,  debased-looking 
man  whose  vices  should  soon  end  his  days  even  if  he 
escapes  the  lamas'  villainy.  Formerly  he  amused  him- 
self with  Western  toys,  photography,  and  especially 
motor-cars.  It  is  true  the  millions  of  Mongols  look 
to  the  Gigin  as  their  divine  leader,  but  after  all  there 
are  ranks  even  in  divinityship,  and  when  the  Dalai 
Lama,  fleeing  from  Lhasa  before  the  Younghusband 
expedition  in  1904,  took  refuge  here,  they  promptly 
forgot  the  smaller  god  to  worship  at  the  shrine  of  a 
first-rate  one,  and  the  Gigin' s  nose  was  put  out  of 
joint,  and  stayed  so  until  his  distinguished  guest  had 


URGA,   THE  SACRED   CITY          279 

departed.  It  was  to  appease  his  wounded  vanity  that 
a  Russian  official  presented  him  with  a  motor-car 
which  had  been  brought  to  Urga  at  vast  expenditure 
of  effort  and  money.  When  I  asked  what  he  could 
have  been  expected  to  do  with  it,  for  roads  there 
were  none,  the  answer  was  that  to  the  divine  one 
with  fifteen  thousand  lamas  to  do  his  bidding,  any- 
thing was  possible.  A  road  was,  indeed,  constructed 
to  the  Bogdo's  summer  retreat,  a  few  miles  away,  but 
alas !  no  chauffeur  was  supplied  with  the  motor-car, 
and  it  would  not  run  of  itself.  When  I  passed  through 
Urga  last  year  I  was  told  that  the  undaunted  Bogdo 
had  ordered  a  second  car,  fully  equipped  with  chauf- 
feur and  all,  from  America,  which  was  even  then  at 
Tientsin,  so  by  now  he  may  be  getting  stuck  in  the 
muddy  lanes  of  the  Sacred  City,  —  unless  he  has  put 
away  such  childish  things  to  take  up  the  farce  of 
governing  Mongolia  under  Russian  guidance. 

For  more  than  three  hundred  years  Lamaism  has 
held  Mongolia  in  its  grip,  checking  the  development 
of  the  country,  sapping  the  vitality  and  self-respect 
of  the  people.  More  even  than  every  other  man  you 
meet  is  a  lama,  for  it  is  estimated,  by  those  who 
know  the  situation  best,  that  five  eighths  of  the  men 
are  lamas,  red  or  yellow,  and  the  evil  is  on  the  in- 
crease. At  least,  two  generations  ago  Abbe  Hue 
plac  ed  the  proportion  at  one  in  three.  But  lamas  are 
not  all  of  one  sort.  There  are  those  who  live  in  corn- 


280  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

munity,  permanently  attached  to  some  one  of  the 
hundreds  of  lamasseries.  They  represent  probably 
the  abler  or  more  ambitious  in  the  priesthood,  and 
are  better  versed  and  more  regular  in  the  observ- 
ances of  their  order,  living  a  life  perhaps  not  unlike 
that  in  Western  monasteries  in  their  period  of  de- 
cline. It  is  this  class  that  rules  Mongolia  —  under 
Russia.  Still  another  group  might  be  compared  to 
the  begging  friars  when  their  brief,  glorious  day  was 
past ;  they  wander  about  the  country,  east,  west, 
south,  to  Lhasa,  to  Omei  Shan,  to  Peking,  with  lit- 
tle purpose  or  plan.  As  Hue  says,  "  vagabondizing 
about  like  birds  of  passage,"  finding  everywhere 
food  and  a  tent  corner,  if  not  a  welcome.  They  nei- 
ther teach  nor  heal,  and  represent  the  most  worthless 
though  perhaps  not  the  most  vicious  among  the 
lamas. 

A  third  class,  and  the  largest,  has  no  parallel,  I 
think,  in  any  Western  church  at  any  period.  These 
are  the  lamas  who,  sent  like  the  others  to  the  lamas- 
series  at  an  early  age,  after  having  received  the  pre- 
scribed training,  —  taking  their  "degrees,"  as  Hue 
calls  it,  —  return  to  their  homes  to  live  the  life  of  the 
ordinary  Mongol,  in  no  wise  to  be  distinguished  from 
the  "  black  man  "  save  by  their  shorn  heads  and  the 
red  and  yellow  dress,  which  they  do  not  always  wear. 
They  marry  after  a  fashion,  at  least  they  take  wives, 
though  without  even  the  ordinary  scanty  formalities, 


URGA,  THE  SACRED   CITY          281 

and  probably  the  tie  is  as  enduring  as  the  "black 
man's  "  marriage.  In  Southwest  Mongolia  I  was  told 
a  lama  marries  just  like  other  people,  while  in  some 
northern  districts  he  has  no  right  to  his  wife,  and  if  a 
"  black  man"  takes  her  away  he  has  no  redress.  The 
Mongol  who  attended  me  on  the  first  stages  from 
Kalgan  was  a  lama  with  wife,  children,  and  home, 
faithful  and  hard-working,  at  least  for  a  Mongol,  and 
a  useful  member  of  society. 

The  question  one  naturally  asks  is,  Why  do  these 
men  become  lamas ;  do  they  do  it  willingly  or  under 
compulsion?  Apparently  the  matter  is  decided  for 
them  by  their  parents,  who  send  them  when  boys  to 
some  lamassery  where  they  are  duly  and  meagrely 
trained ;  but  they  do  not  seem  to  chafe  at  their  con- 
dition when  they  grow  up,  for  the  advantages  are 
very  real.  The  parents  save  in  not  having  to  buy  wives 
for  their  sons,  while  the  lama  himself  is  always  sure 
of  support  if  he  goes  back  to  his  lamassery,  and  he 
is  free  from  all  demands  by  the  Government  for  mil- 
itary service. 

It  is  said  that  the  Chinese  Government  has  encour- 
aged Lamaism  with  the  idea  of  keeping  down  the 
population ;  in  this  way  it  would  avert  the  danger  of 
Mongol  invasion.  But  Lamaism  has  already  done 
that  in  another  way,  by  killing  the  vigour  and  war- 
like temper  of  the  people.  The  memory  of  Genghis 
Khan  still  lives  in  the  land  where  he  was  born ;  tra- 


282  A  WAYFARER  IN  CHINA 

dition  holds  that  the  Great  Conqueror  lies  buried  on 
the  summit  of  Bogda  Ola,  the  mountain  that  towers 
over  Urga,  and  no  one  may  climb  the  height  lest  his 
sleeping  be  disturbed.  But  it  is  the  vicious  weakling 
who  holds  uncertain  sway  in  the  Sacred  City,  not  the 
spirit  of  the  mighty  warrior,  that  dominates  the  Mon- 
gol of  to-day. 

Buddhism  takes  on  many  forms.  On  one  side  you 
have  the  gentle,  intelligent  monk  of  Burma,  and  the 
kindly  superstitious  bonze  of  China.  But  that  black 
travesty  of  Buddhism,  Lamaism,  seems  to  offer  no 
redeeming  feature;  brutish  in  Ladakh,  vicious  and 
cruel  in  Tibet,  it  is  debasing  and  weakening  in  its 
effects  upon  the  Mongol,  who  comes  of  finer  and 
stronger  stock  than  either  Ladakhi  or  Tibetan.  But 
he  sometimes  succeeds  in  being  a  good  fellow  in  spite 
of  his  religion. 

The  first  day  of  my  stay  in  Urga  I  devoted  to  re- 
pairing the  damages  of  the  journey  across  the  desert. 
Oh,  the  luxury  of  plenty  of  hot  water,  of  leisure,  of 
privacy.  I  scrubbed  and  I  mended,  but  above  all  I 
rested.  And  if  I  tired  of  that,  there  was  always  plenty 
to  see  just  outside  my  door.  The  house  where  I  was 
so  kindly  entertained  was  the  home  of  a  rich  Mongol 
trader,  a  man  of  many  deeds  and  few  words.  It  was 
built  around  a  large  courtyard  enclosed  in  a  strong 
stockade  some  twelve  feet  high,  the  buildings  forming 
part  of  the  enclosing  wall.  On  the  long  side  of  the 


URGA,  THE  SACRED   CITY          283 

court  was  a  roofed-over  space  where  carts  and  horses 
and  fuel  were  kept.  To  the  right  hand  and  to  the  left 
were  kitchen,  godowns,  servants'  quarters,  while  on 
the  side  facing  the  great  entrance  gates  boldly  dec- 
orated with  the  swastika  symbol  were  the  family  and 
guest  rooms.  Along  this  front  was  a  narrow  verandah 
roofed  by  the  overhanging  eaves  of  the  one-story 
buildings.  Most  of  the  windows  were  of  the  ordinary 
Chinese  style,  —  wooden  lattices  covered  with  paper, 
—  but  a  few  were  glazed.  My  room  was  about  four- 
teen feet  by  ten  in  size,  one  half  or  more  of  the  space 
being  taken  up  by  a  platform  some  three  feet  high, 
on  which  were  a  large  gaudy  rug  and  two  or  three 
tiny  tables  and  chests  of  drawers.  The  rest  of  the 
furnishing  was  a  rough  bench  and  two  decorated  cab- 
inets. The  ceiling  of  the  room  was  covered  with  a 
gaily  flowered  European  paper,  and  on  the  walls  hung 
some  cheap  Chinese  kakemonos. 

The  state  rooms,  which  were  next  to  mine,  were 
evidently  held  in  great  esteem,  and  my  hostess  dis- 
played them  with  the  reverent  pride  of  a  good  New 
England  woman  showing  her  parlour.  There  were 
three  of  them,  opening  one  into  the  other.  In  each 
there  was  the  invariable  platform  covered  by  rugs, 
and  big  Chinese  vases  stood  about  on  small  tables. 

The  life  that  went  on  in  the  courtyard  was  simple 
and  rather  patriarchal.  Servants,  children,  horses, 
everything  was  under  the  eye  of  the  master,  a  good- 


284  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA' 

looking,  dignified  man.  I  found  it  rather  difficult  to 
distinguish  servants  and  family ;  everybody  seemed 
to  be  on  a  familiar  footing.  But  the  joy  of  the  place 
was  a  small  boy,  the  son  and  heir,  who  played  with 
Jack  or  sat  in  my  room  inspecting  my  things  by  the 
half-hour.  According  to  Western  ideas  children  in 
the  East  are  not  "brought  up,"  and  it  is  true  they  are 
abominably  spoiled,  but  at  least  one's  heart  is  not 
often  wrung  by  seeing  them  slapped  and  beaten. 

One  of  my  first  rides  abroad  was  to  the  Russo- 
Asiatic  Bank  where  I  met  much  courtesy  and  helpful- 
ness. Thanks  to  the  bank  officials  in  Peking  I  was 
expected,  and  I  found  a  warm  welcome,  and  a  house 
ready  prepared  for  me,  which,  however,  I  could  not 
use,  as  I  was  already  settled  where  I  was.  There  is  a 
community  of  about  five  hundred  Russians  in  Urga, 
mostly  traders  and  officials,  and  a  fifth  as  many  sol- 
diers protecting  them.  The  look  of  the  Russian 
quarter  takes  you  across  the  sea,  for  many  of  the 
houses  are  of  logs  set  in  a  grass  yard,  the  whole  sur- 
rounded by  a  high  board  fence,  almost  a  stockade  in 
strength.  Far  East  and  Far  West  have  met,  and  the 
homes  of  the  Russian  pioneer  and  American  frontiers- 
man are  much  alike. 

For  many  decades  Russia  has  been  extending  her 
influence  into  North  Mongolia,  patiently  and  per- 
sistently, and  now  through  trade  and  employment 
she  has  the  country  in  her  grasp.  Almost  the  only 


MY   MONGOL  HOSTESS 


THE  MONGOL  HOUSE  WHERE   I   STAYED   IN   URGA 


URGA,  THE  SACRED   CITY          285 

foreign  people  the  Mongol  knows  are  the  Russians, 
and  as  a  rule  he  seems  to  get  on  with  them  rather 
well,  although  a  Russian  official  told  me  he  doubted 
if  there  was  much  to  choose  between  the  Chinese  and 
the  Russian  traders ;  both  fleeced  the  poor  nomad. 
However,  European  onlookers,  who  know  Mongolia 
well,  declare  that  if  it  came  to  war  between  China 
and  Russia,  the  Mongols  would  take  sides,  —  and 
with  the  Russians. 

When  I  was  in  Urga  there  was  much  talk  among 
the  Chinese  about  the  railway  that  was  surely  coming, 
and  the  Kalgan  officials  said  the  same  thing.  One 
only  wonders  that  it  was  not  done  half  a  dozen  years 
ago ;  there  are  no  serious  difficulties.  Once  outside 
the  Great  Wall,  the  rails  could  be  laid  down  on  the 
top  of  the  ground  almost  as  fast  as  a  man  could 
walk.  Only  as  you  approach  Urga,  north  of  the 
desert,  would  there  be  much  in  the  way  of  bridging 
and  embanking.  And  it  would  soon  pay  for  itself, 
for  the  millions  of  taels'  worth  of  trade  done  between 
North  Mongolia  and  China  would  easily  be  doubled 
if  once  freed  from  the  handicap  of  the  costly  and  un- 
certain journey  of  to-day.  But  more  important  than 
all  else  is  the  political  side  of  the  question.  The  Chi- 
nese Government  must  have  known  for  years  that  its 
hold  on  North  Mongolia  was  insecure  ;  it  has  pushed 
forward  colonization  by  the  Chinese  with  much  more 
than  its  usual  vigour,  and,  given  time,  that  would 


286  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

have  settled  the  matter.  But  it  had  no  right  to  count 
on  having  time,  while  a  railway  across  the  desert, 
taking  not  long  to  build,  would  have  bound  all  Mon- 
golia to  the  empire  with  bands  truly  of  steel,  that 
even  the  Russians  could  not  break.  And  now  —  is  it 
too  late? 

The  hours  were  quite  too  short  which  I  had  to 
spend  in  Urga,  the  Urga  of  the  Mongols ;  the  other 
settlements  were  merely  frontier  posts,  one  Chinese 
style  and  the  other  Russian,  new  and  uninteresting. 
But  Urga,  Ta  Huren,  was  another  story.  To  reach  it 
we  forded  the  river,  the  strong  current  washing  my 
feet  as  we  rode  through.  There  may  be  some  other 
way,  but  that  sort  of  thing  is  part  of  the  ordinary 
day's  work  with  the  Mongol,  and  I  believe  he  is 
rather  shy  of  the  one  or  two  bridges  the  Russians 
have  built. 

Ta  Huren  has  a  temporary  look  that  suits  its  name ; 
fire  or  flood  could  easily  sweep  it  away.  And  there  is 
nothing  of  any  architectural  interest  save  two  or  three 
temples  and  lamasseries,  and  having  seen  one  you 
have  seen  all,  for  there  is  little  of  beauty  or  fine 
workmanship  about  them.  The  broad  main  street 
and  the  open  spaces  above  the  river  were  much  more 
attractive,  for  there  the  life  of  the  settlement  had 
gathered,  and  again  you  had  the  impression  of  a 
holiday.  There  was  too  much  leisure,  too  much  jol- 


URGA,  THE  SACRED   CITY  287 

lity,  and  too  much  colour  for  the  work-a-day  crowd 
of  the  West  or  of  China.  People  came  and  went, 
stopped  to  talk,  stopped  to  stare.  No  one  seemed  in 
a  hurry  except  one  or  two  self-important  officials  and 
their  white-jacketed  retinue.  Only  in  the  horse-mar- 
ket was  there  any  real  business  going  on.  There 
the  crowd  seemed  really  intent  on  something,  but 
buying  and  selling  horses  is  a  serious  matter  the 
world  over,  in  Kentucky  or  in  Mongolia.  Indeed,  the 
whole  scene  reminded  me  of  nothing  so  much  as 
"Court  Day"  in  Kentucky,  done  in  colour.  But  the 
colour  made  all  the  difference.  Everywhere  there 
were  lamas,  of  course,  —  lamas  in  red  dress  and  red 
hats,  or  lamas  with  blue-black  shaven  heads  set  off 
by  yellow  or  flame-coloured  garments.  Women  came 
and  went  on  foot  or  on  horseback,  alone  or  in  groups, 
just  as  much  at  home  in  the  motley  crowd  as  the 
men.  Some  of  them  were  gorgeously  attired,  and  the 
flashing  of  their  silver  headgear  was  quite  dazzling. 
Now  and  then  I  caught  sight  of  one  more  soberly 
clad  and  with  a  shaven  head,  a  widow,  perhaps,  or 
an  old  woman  who  had  become  the  family  priest  to 
the  extent  of  performing  the  daily  simple  observ- 
ances. 

Mingling  with  the  gay,  happy-go-lucky  throng  of 
Mongols  were  two  alien  elements:  one,  the  quiet, 
purposeful,  observant,  blue-gowned  Chinese,  each  in- 
tent on  his  business ;  the  other,  the  blue-eyed  Cos- 


288  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

sacks  in  white  caps  and  the  big,  bearded,  belted 
Mujiks,  looking  tremendously  substantial  as  they 
lounged  heavily  along,  lazily  watching  the  shifting 
crowd.  I  thought  of  the  Afghan  Amir  Abdur  Rah- 
man's comparison  of  Russia  to  an  elephant,  "  who 
examines  a  spot  thoroughly  before  he  places  his  foot 
down  upon  it,  and,  when  once  he  puts  his  weight 
there,  there  is  no  going  back  and  no  taking  another 
step  in  a  hurry  until  he  has  put  his  whole  weight  on 
the  first  foot  and  smashed  everything  that  lies  under 
it."  But  the  Chinese  are  like  the  tide,  coming  in 
noiselessly,  gently,  filling  each  hole  and  crevice, 
rising  unnoticed  higher  and  higher  until  it  covers 
the  land.  Will  it  sweep  away  the  elephant  ? 


CHAPTER  XV 

NORTH  TO  THE  SIBERIAN   RAILWAY 

ONE  should  spend  weeks,  not  days,  in  Urga,  but 
alas,  time  pressed  and  I  had  to  be  "  moving"  on." 
Just  how  to  move  on  was  a  question,  for  the  ponies 
and  buggy  with  which  I  had  crossed  Gobi  could  go 
no  farther.  I  finally  arranged  with  a  Russian  trader 
for  a  tarantass  and  baggage  cart  to  take  me  the  two 
hundred  and  twenty-five  miles  to  the  head  of  river 
navigation  beyond  Kiakhta.  Innumerable  cigarettes 
were  smoked  while  the  discussion  went  on  in  my  room, 
and  at  times  there  seemed  much  more  smoke  than 
progress,  for  the  trader  knew  only  his  own  tongue  and 
Mongolian,  but  one  of  the  two  Russians  who  were  to 
go  with  me  spoke  a  very  few  words  of  German,  so 
he  and  I  made  shift  to  understand  each  other.  My 
Mongol  host  was  on  hand,  looking  after  my  interests, 
but  he  could  talk  with  me  only  through  the  medium 
of  Tchagan  Hou,  who  spoke  a  little  Chinese,  and 
Wang,  who  knew  even  less  English. 

My  spirits  were  rather  low  as  I  said  good-bye  to  my 
kind  hosts  one  bright  morning  in  August.  I  was  sorry 
to  leave  Urga  with  so  much  unseen,  sorry  to  see  the 
last  of  Tchagan  Hou,  who  had  piloted  me  so  skilfully 


290  A  WAYFARER  IN  CHINA 

across  the  desert  —  blessings  on  his  good  face !  I  hope 
luck  is  with  him  wherever  he  is  —  and  I  was  sorry  to 
part  with  my  Chinese  tent,  my  home  for  weeks,  and 
with  my  little  camp-bed,  on  which  I  had  slept  so 
many  dreamless  nights.  A  few  days  and  nights  in 
a  tarantass  were  all  that  now  lay  between  me  and 
the  uninteresting  comforts  of  Western  hotels  and 
trains. 

With  great  inward  objection  I  climbed  into  the 
tarantass,  like  nothing  so  much  as  a  huge  cradle  on 
wheels,  drawn  by  three  horses,  one,  the  largest,  trot- 
ting between  the  shafts,  and  the  other  two  galloping 
on  either  side.  At  the  very  outset  I  had  a  chance  to 
realize  the  difference  between  dealing  with  the  Asi- 
atic pure  and  simple,  and  the  Asiatic  disguised  as  a 
European.  We  had  been  told  that  it  would  be  neces- 
sary to  make  an  early  start  to  cover  the  first  day's 
stage  before  dark.  I  was  on  hand,  and  so  was  Wang, 
but  it  was  afternoon  before  we  were  finally  off.  Lug- 
gage had  to  be  packed  and  repacked,  wheels  greased, 
harness  mended,  many  things  done  that  ought  to  have 
been  attended  to  the  day  before.  Now  of  course  that 
happens  in  China, — though  nowhere  else  in  my 
journeyings  did  I  encounter  such  dawdling  and 
shiftlessness,  —  but  there  at  least  you  may  relieve 
your  feelings  by  storming  a  bit  and  stirring  things  up ; 
these  people,  however,  looked  like  Western  men,  and 
one  simply  could  not  do  it. 


NORTH  TO  THE  SIBERIAN  RAILWAY  291 

So  I  kicked  my  heels  for  hours  in  the  Russian  mer- 
chant's lumberyard,  drinking  innumerable  cups  of  tea 
and  refusing  as  many  more,  and  getting  light  on 
several  things.  I  had  been  told  that  the  Russians  have 
little  of  the  Anglo-Saxon's  race  pride,  but  I  did  not 
suppose  they  ignored  all  other  distinctions.  I  was 
drinking  a  last  glass  of  tea  with  the  merchant  in 
his  pleasant  little  sitting-room,  attractive  with  many 
blossoming  plants,  when  Wang  came  in  to  collect  my 
things.  He  was  at  once  boisterously  urged  to  draw 
up  to  the  table  between  us.  He  refused,  but  the  Rus- 
sian insisted,  trying  to  force  him  down  into  a  chair. 
I  watched  without  saying  anything  as  my  boy  quietly 
took  a  glass  of  tea  and  a  chair  and  withdrew  to  the 
other  side  of  the  room.  He  understood  what  was 
suitable  better  than  the  Russian. 

Passing  out  of  the  little  Russian  trading  settlement, 
like  nothing  so  much  as  a  thriving,  hideous  Western 
village,  we  drove  through  the  main  street  of  the 
Mongolian  quarter,  where  all  the  life  of  Lama-town 
seemed  to  have  drifted,  for  the  gaiety  and  colour  were 
intoxicating.  Half  an  hour  took  us  away  from  the 
river  and  into  the  hills.  The  track  was  rough  and 
boggy  and  often  blocked  by  interminable  trains  of 
bullock  carts  laden  with  logs  or  dressed  lumber,  Urga's 
important  exports.  Toward  the  end  of  the  day  the  way 
became  steeper  and  wilder,  ascending  between  slopes 
well  wooded  with  spruce  and  pine  and  larch  and 


292  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

birch.  It  was  a  joy  to  be  in  a  real  forest  again.  The 
flowers  that  grew  in  great  profusion  were  more  beau- 
tiful than  any  I  had  seen  before  in  North  Mongolia, 
especially  the  wonderful  masses  of  wild  larkspur  of 
a  blue  so  intense  that  it  dazzled  the  eyes. 

A  storm  was  gathering  and  we  pushed  on  as  fast 
as  we  could ;  but  the  road  was  too  rough  for  speed 
and  we  were  a  long  way  from  our  camping-place 
when  a  tremendous  downpour  burst  upon  us,  and  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye  our  path  was  a  rushing  moun- 
tain torrent.  Dry  under  my  tarpaulin  I  could  enjoy  the 
scene,  splendid  masses  of  blue-black  clouds  shot  with 
vivid  flashes  of  lightning  that  served  only  to  show 
the  badness  of  the  way  and  the  emptiness  of  the 
country.  I  will  say  for  Ivan,  the  tarantass  driver,  that 
he  knew  his  business  and  kept  the  horses  on  their 
feet  and  in  the  road  better  than  most  men  could  have 
done. 

We  drove  on  until  nine,  when  the  driver  declared 
he  could  go  no  farther,  and  proceeded  to  make  camp 
by  the  roadside,  not  far  from  a  couple  of  yurts.  A 
light  shone  out,  and  there  was  the  sound  of  angry 
voices  and  wrangling,  but  I  could  not  find  out  what 
was  the  matter.  Nicolai's  German  always  gave  out, 
as  the  Indian  babu  said  his  presence  of  mind  did, 
"  in  the  nick  of  time."  Finally,  the  Russians  sulkily 
turned  their  horses  loose  and  set  up  the  little  shelter 
tent  where  the  three  men  were  to  sleep.  Apparently 


NORTH  TO  THE  SIBERIAN  RAILWAY  293 

there  was  no  fuel  to  be  had,  and  we  all  went  supper- 
less  to  bed. 

My  first  night  in  a  tarantass  was  very  comfortable. 
The  body  of  the  cart,  made  soft  with  rugs  and  sheep- 
skins, was  long  enough  for  me  to  stretch  out  at  full 
length  if  I  lay  cornerwise,  and  the  hood  protected  me 
against  rain  and  wind.  When  I  waked  in  the  morn- 
ing the  whole  land  was  drenched,  but  the  sun  shone 
brilliantly.  I  started  out  on  my  own  account  to  get  a 
a  little  dry  fuel  from  the  Mongols,  but  was  rather 
brusquely  repulsed.  And  I  now  found  out  what  was 
the  matter.  The  people  had  objected  the  night  before 
to  our  camping  near  the  yurts,  for  it  was  their  hay- 
field,  theirs  by  the  custom  which  forbids  encroaching 
on  the  land  near  a  settlement,  but  the  Russians  had 
persisted,  and  now,  in  their  helpless  anger,  — they 
were  an  aged  lama  and  an  old  woman,  —  they  refused 
to  sell  us  wood.  They  stood  aloof  looking  ruefully  at 
their  trampled  meadow  as  we  made  ready  to  start, 
hardly  brightening  up  at  all  when  I  tried  to  make 
good  their  loss.  An  Englishman  or  an  American 
would  scarcely  have  asked  my  boy  to  sit  at  table 
with  us,  but  on  the  other  hand  he  would  have  spared 
the  Mongol's  poor  little  hayfield. 

The  experience  of  the  first  day  was  repeated  all  the 
following  days ;  a  late  start  in  the  morning,  tedious 
halts  at  noon,  getting  into  camp  long  after  dark.  In- 
deed, I  do  not  know  when  we  should  have  been  ofl 


294  A  WAYFARER  IN  CHINA 

in  the  morning  had  it  not  been  for  Wang.  He  it  was 
who  roused  the  men,  and  did  his  best  to  get  a  fire 
started,  collecting  fuel  for  the  whole  camp.  Although 
it  rained  every  day,  I  do  not  think  it  ever  occurred 
to  the  Russians  to  avail  themselves  of  a  chance  to 
get  dry  wood  against  the  next  meal,  and  Wang  re- 
marked sadly  that  the  Russians  spent  even  more  time 
than  the  Mongols  in  drinking  tea. 

After  the  first  day  we  left  behind  the  wooded  hills 
and  were  again  in  rolling  grassland  like  South  Mon- 
golia, but  there  was  much  more  water ;  indeed,  the 
streams  and  bogs  often  forced  us  to  make  long  de- 
tours, and  finally  we  came  to  a  deep,  strong-flowing 
river  that  could  not  be  forded  ;  but  there  was  a  ferry- 
boat made  of  four  huge,  hollowed  logs  securely  lashed 
together  and  covered  with  a  loose,  rough  flooring. 
The  horses  were  taken  out  and  made  to  swim  across, 
while  the  Mongol  ferrymen,  all  lamas  and  big  fellows, 
went  back  and  forth,  taking  us  and  the  carts  over. 

The  second  morning  we  started  again  without  our 
breakfasts, — there  was  no  dry  wood.  Ivan,  the  tar- 
antass  driver,  and  the  only  one  of  the  party  who 
knew  the  road,  cheered  us  with  the  prospect  of  some- 
thing hot  at  a  Russian  colonist's  house  an  hour  far- 
ther on,  but  it  was  four  hours'  hard  driving  before 
we  reached  the  place,  which  then,  however,  more 
than  made  good  all  he  had  claimed  for  it. 

The  two  families  that  formed  the  little  settlement 


NORTH  TO  THE  SIBERIAN  RAILWAY  295 

were  engaged  in  cattle  raising,  and  seemed  prosper- 
ous and  contented.  Their  houses  and  sheds  were 
built  of  timber  and  mud,  and  looked  substantial  and 
well  suited  to  stand  the  cold  and  winds  of  North 
Mongolia.  We  were  given  a  hearty  welcome  and 
taken  at  once  into  a  large  whitewashed  room,  kitchen, 
living-room,  and  bedroom  in  one.  Everything  was 
spotlessly  clean  ;  even  under  the  bed  there  was  no 
dust.  I  can  testify  to  that,  for  I  pursued  Jack  there. 
The  mistress  of  the  house  was  a  very  good-looking, 
dark-browed  woman  in  a  neat  red  gown  with  a  red 
kerchief  tied  over  her  head.  She  promptly  served  us 
with  delicious  tea  from  the  invariable  samovar,  and 
the  freshest  of  eggs  and  good  black  bread,  while  a 
chicken,  for  me  to  take  away,  was  set  roasting  on 
a  spit  before  the  fire.  Two  little  tow-headed  boys, 
put  out  of  the  way  on  the  bed,  stared  stolidly  at  us 
as  they  munched  raw  parsnips,  and  a  baby  cradled 
in  a  basket  suspended  by  a  rope  from  the  ceiling  was 
kept  swinging  by  a  touch  from  the  mother  as  she 
went  to  and  fro.  The  people  seemed  to  be  on  friendly 
terms  with  their  Mongol  neighbours,  two  or  three 
of  whom  came  in  while  I  was  there,  but  it  must 
be  a  lonely  life,  a  day's  ride  away  from  the  nearest 
Russian  family.  When  I  asked  Nicolai  what  the  chil- 
dren did  for  school,  he  laughed  scornfully.  "Why 
should  they  learn  to  read  ?  Their  father  and  mother 
cannot." 


296  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

Such  homes  as  these  are  Russia's  advance  posts 
in  Mongolia,  but  given  a  fair  field  and  she  would 
stand  no  chance,  for  the  Chinese  colonists  must  out- 
number the  others  a  hundred  to  one.  From  this  time 
on  we  saw  more  and  more  signs  of  cultivation,  the 
pasture  land  was  broken  by  great  fields  of  rye  and 
barley,  and  the  yurts  of  the  Mongol  were  often  re- 
placed by  Chinese  houses,  looking  on  the  outside 
much  like  the  one  just  described,  save  that  the  win- 
dow openings  were  filled  with  paper  instead  of  glass. 

Board  signs,  not  unlike  "Keep  off  the  grass  "  ones 
of  the  West,  were  set  up  here  and  there,  showing  a 
Chinese  holding.  With  or  without  government  aid 
the  Chinese  are  coming  in.  They  get  land  from  the 
Mongols  very  much,  I  imagine,  as  did  the  first  Eng- 
lish settlers  in  America,  buying  for  a  song  what  the 
owner  does  not  know  he  is  selling.  And  once  estab- 
lished they  are  not  easily  dislodged,  for  they  are 
good  farmers,  thrifty  and  untiring.  In  the  end  they 
will  oust  the  Mongol  from  the  best  lands  as  sure  as 
fate,  unless  Russia  first  ousts  them,  as  apparently 
she  is  doing.  I  am  sorry  for  the  Mongol ;  he  is  a 
happy-go-lucky,  likeable  fellow,  but  it  is  all  nonsense 
for  the  Russian  Government  to  talk  about  the  way 
the  Chinese  settlers  are  wronging  him,  taking  away 
the  tillable  lands.  He  does  not  want  them  to  till,  but 
to  pasture  his  herds,  and  that  is  just  the  difficulty.  It 
is  not  China  but  civilization  that  is  driving  the  Mon- 


NORTH  TO  THE  SIBERIAN  RAILWAY  297 

gol  to  the  wall,  just  as  the  Red  Indian  was  driven. 
Nowadays  the  people  that  will  not  make  the  best  use 
of  the  land  must  give  it  up  to  those  who  will. 

The  next  day  promised  to  be  a  long,  hard  one,  and 
proved  even  harder  than  I  had  expected.  First  the 
little  dog  was  run  over  by  my  own  baggage  cart. 
I  thought  surely  he  was  dead,  and  then  I  feared  the 
first  use  of  the  revolver  I  had  brought  from  America 
would  be  to  end  his  gay  little  life.  The  Russians 
shook  their  heads  dolefully  and  gave  no  help,  but 
Wang  lent  a  hand  with  his  cheerful  "all  right,"  and 
in  twenty-four  hours  Jack  was  able  to  bark  at  the 
horses,  even  though  he  was  too  much  bunged  up  to 
stand. 

My  other  trouble  was  the  behaviour  of  the  man 
Ivan.  He  was  in  fact  a  thoroughly  bad  sort,  lazy, 
stupid,  sullen,  and  brutal  to  his  horses.  He  was  sup- 
posed to  take  orders  from  the  other  Russian,  but  he 
refused  to  obey  him  or  any  one.  Only  when  by  signs 
I  could  make  clear  what  I  wanted  could  I  do  any- 
thing with  him  ;  then  I  could  sometimes  put  enough 
peremptoriness  in  my  voice  to  bring  him  to  heel. 
Added  to  the  natural  bad  temper  of  the  man  he  was 
drinking  constantly,  and  was  quite  beyond  control. 

The  country  where  we  now  were  was  a  succession 
of  beautiful  valleys  watered  by  many  streams  and 
enclosed  by  barren,  treeless  hills,  —  a  rich,  uninterest- 
ing district.  We  stopped  for  tiffin  by  a  broad  stream 


298  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

bordered  by  willows.  The  grass  was  good,  but  the 
flies  were  so  maddening  that  the  poor  ponies  hardly 
grazed  at  all.  Hot  as  it  was,  I  thought  they  were 
better  off  moving  than  in  this  pestilential  spot,  but  it 
was  impossible  to  get  Ivan  started.  For  hours  he 
slept  and  drank,  while  the  horses  twitched  their  skins 
and  switched  their  tails  and  stamped  their  feet,  and 
between  times  tried  to  snatch  a  bite.  Poor-looking 
women  and  boys  from  some  yurts  crept  over  to  our 
camp,  and  sought  eagerly  through  the  grass  for  any 
finds  in  the  way  of  tins  or  bottles.  They  were  quite 
the  most  miserable  natives  that  I  saw  on  my  trip. 
As  for  me,  I  sat  on  the  ground,  comforting  Jack  and 
longing  for  a  Chinese  or  a  Mongol  or  anything  that 
had  learned  to  obey. 

Finally  at  half-past  five  the  driver  roused  from  his 
drunken  doze  and  we  started  off  again.  On  and  on  we 
go,  over  a  tedious,  uninteresting  stretch ;  the  sun  goes 
down,  the  twilight  deepens  into  night,  and  the  stars 
come  out.  At  half-past  eight  I  ask  how  much  longer 
we  must  drive,  and  am  told  two  hours.  At  half-past 
eleven  I  try  to  make  the  man  understand  he  must 
stop,  but  he  pays  no  attention.  And  it  is  one  o'clock 
when  I  see  the  river  in  front  of  us,  glimmering  in  the 
misty  moonlight.  In  a  minute  we  are  in  the  water  ; 
two  steps  more  and  the  swift  current  is  up  to  the 
horses'  sides,  and  the  tarantass  begins  to  turn  over. 
Ivan,  now  thoroughly  awake,  jumps  out,  the  other 


NORTH  TO  THE  SIBERIAN  RAILWAY  299 

Russian  helps,  and  with  much  pushing  and  flounder- 
ing the  horses  manage  to  struggle  back  to  shore. 
This  is  plainly  no  ford,  and  as  there  is  no  help  in 
sight  we  camp  on  the  bank  for  the  rest  of  the  night, 
no  grass  for  the  horses,  nothing  to  make  a  fire.  Af- 
ter a  bite  of  black  bread  and  a  tea-cup  of  the  Foreign 
Office  Bordeaux,  I  curl  up  in  the  tarantass,  shivering 
with  damp  river  cold,  and  Wang,  rolled  up  in  his 
sheepskin,  sleeps  on  the  ground  underneath.  As  for 
the  Russians,  I  commit  them  cheerfully  to  all  the  joys 
of  rheumatism. 

For  once  every  one  is  up  at  dawn.  A  passing  lama 
directs  us  to  a  ferry  down  the  river,  where  we  cross 
by  means  of  a  flat-bottomed  boat  worked  by  an  iron 
cable.  On  the  other  side  the  men  start  a  fire  and  we 
get  some  hot  tea.  Again  I  am  struck  by  the  familiar 
way  in  which  the  Russians  hobnob  with  the  Mongols. 
Anglo-Saxons  of  their  class  would  not  do  it.  I  won- 
der if  the  "  hail-fellow-well-met"  treatment  offsets  the 
injustice  and  rough  handling  the  natives  often  get 
from  their  northern  neighbours,  and  if  on  the  whole 
they  like  it  better  than  the  Anglo-Saxon's  fairness 
when  coupled  with  his  reserve.  A  distinguished  In- 
dian, not  a  reformer,  once  said  to  me,  "  My  country- 
men prefer  sympathy  to  justice."  Perhaps  that  is  true 
of  other  Asiatics  also. 

For  three  or  four  hours  after  starting  off  again  we 
traversed  much  the  same  sort  of  country  as  the  day 


300  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

before,  crossing  fertile  valleys,  climbing  rough  hill- 
sides to  avoid  bogs.  There  were  not  many  signs  of 
cultivation,  but  along  the  horizon  we  could  see  the 
dark  line  of  a  forest,  a  welcome  change.  Just  before 
reaching  it  we  turned  off  across  the  plain  to  the  yurts 
of  the  helpful  lama  of  the  morning.  We  were  expected 
and  given  a  warm  welcome  in  more  senses  than  one, 
for  the  yurt  into  which  I  was  at  once  taken  was  so 
hot  that  I  thought  I  should  faint.  How  those  people 
in  their  woollen  clothes  could  endure  the  heat  was  a 
mystery. 

The  lama,  a  well-appearing,  elderly  man,  seemed 
completely  fitted  out  with  wife  and  children  and  yurts 
and  herds.  He  was  plainly  a  person  of  substance, 
and  the  head  of  quite  a  settlement.  The  yurt  where 
I  was  received  was  very  spacious,  and  was  furnished 
precisely  as  Hue  described  sixty  years  ago.  There 
was  one  novelty,  a  stove-pipe  connected  with  a  sort 
of  cement  stove,  but  perhaps  this  was  merely  for 
ornament,  as  my  dinner  was  cooked  in  a  pot  placed 
upon  a  tripod  over  a  fire  of  wood  and  argols.  I  was 
given  the  seat  of  honour,  a  sort  of  divan,  and  milk 
was  placed  on  a  small,  low  table  before  me.  But  I  at 
once  espied  something  more  interesting  than  food. 
Round  the  walls  of  the  yurt  were  ranged  one  or  two 
tables  and  chests  of  drawers.  On  one  were  some 
books,  detached  leaves  in  leather  covers  with  clasps. 
These  were  the  lama's  sacred  books.  Very  stupidly, 


LAMA   AND   HIS    "  WIFE  ' 


NORTH  TO  THE  SIBERIAN  RAILWAY  301 

for  I  had  been  told  that  no  secular  hand  may  touch 
them,  I  started  to  pick  one  up,  but  the  man  courte- 
ously but  very  firmly  waved  me  back ;  hardly  would 
he  allow  me  to  look  at  them  from  a  distance.  He  as- 
sured me  he  could  read  them,  but  that  is  not  true  of 
most  lamas.  A  little  altar  set  out  with  small  images 
and  pictures  of  Buddha,  and  among  them  a  cheap 
photograph  of  the  Gigin  of  Urga,  did  not  seem  half 
so  sacred,  for  the  lama  displayed  them  freely,  even  al- 
lowing me  to  inspect  the  dozen  or  so  small  metal  pots 
containing  oil  and  other  offerings  which  were  ranged 
in  front  of  the  images. 

When  our  food  was  ready,  the  lama  carried  off  the 
Russians  to  eat  in  the  men's  tent ;  that  is  the  rule, 
but  the  neighbours,  men  and  women,  who  had  flocked 
in,  stayed  to  watch  me.  Various  strange  dishes  were 
put  before  me ;  best  of  all,  some  hard  curds  decorated 
with  lumps  of  sugar.  Sugar  is  a  great  delicacy  with 
the  Mongols. 

As  we  were  nearing  the  land  of  hotels,  I  emptied 
my  tiffin  basket  here,  making  my  hosts  and  their  friends 
happy  with  tins  of  jam  and  marmalade  and  sardines 
and  beef  extract,  not  to  mention  enamelled  cups  and 
plates  and  stew-pans.  Everything  was  eagerly  taken, 
even  empty  jars  and  bottles,  and  they  seemed  as 
pleased  as  children  with  a  new  toy. 

The  country  changed  abruptly  after  leaving  the 
last  Mongol  settlement.  Houses  of  Russian  colonists 


302  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

occurred  frequently,  and  presently  we  entered  the 
remnants  of  a  fine  pine  forest,  and  from  this  time  on 
there  was  no  lack  of  trees.  We  were  now  almost  at 
the  Russian  frontier,  and  I  was  becoming  uneasy 
about  the  fate  of  my  little  revolver.  It  had  already 
undergone  various  vicissitudes;  discovered  by  the 
customs  officials  at  Constantinople,  they  had  threat- 
ened to  fine  me  for  violating  the  law  about  bringing 
in  firearms,  but  finally  decided  to  remit  the  fine  but 
confiscate  the  weapon.  When  remonstrated  with  on 
the  ground  that  I  was  a  lady  going  to  Asiatic  Tur- 
key and  might  need  it,  they  made  matters  straight  by 
returning  the  revolver,  but  kept  the  ammunition.  I 
had  paid  duty  on  the  thing  in  Bombay,  I  had  spent 
hours  fitting  it  with  cartridges  in  Shanghai,  many 
miles  it  had  been  carried,  kept  handy  in  case  of 
need,  although  I  could  not  imagine  what  the  need 
could  be,  and  now  I  was  assured  it  would  be  seized 
and  I  would  be  fined  if  I  tried  to  take  it  over  the 
Russian  frontier.  No  firearms  of  any  sort  may  be 
brought  into  the  empire  without  a  permit  procured 
beforehand.  No,  the  Russians  should  not  have  my 
little  revolver.  We  passed  a  small  pond;  one  toss 
and  it  was  gone. 

The  sun  was  setting  as  looking  across  the  valley 
I  caught  the  white  gleam  of  the  great  church  in 
Kiakhta,  but  it  was  after  eleven  when  we  rumbled 
through  Mai-ma-chin,  the  frontier  post  of  China,  and, 


NORTH  TO  THE  SIBERIAN  RAILWAY  303 

crossing  the  Russian  boundary  unchallenged,  drove 
quietly  down  the  long  main  street  of  the  town.  I  was 
too  sleepy  to  notice  anything,  until  I  heard  the  men 
chuckling  softly,  and  I  waked  up  to  find  that  we  were 
past  the  custom  house.  "  It  would  be  too  bad  to 
disturb  the  sleepy  sentinels,  so  we  took  off  the  bells," 
they  explain.  I  imagine  they  had  added  to  their  other 
misdeeds  by  doing  a  bit  of  smuggling. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  we  drove  for  hours  through 
the  dark,  echoing  streets  of  Kiakhta,  but  at  last  we 
stopped  before  the  white  wall  of  a  long,  low  building, 
and  in  a  moment  I  was  in  another  world.  Behind 
me  were  the  wide,  open  plains  of  Mongolia  and  the 
starlit  nights  in  tent  or  tarantass.  Here  was  Russia, 
half  Europe,  half  Asia,  and  wholly  uninteresting.  But 
at  least  there  was  a  good  bed  awaiting  me,  and  the 
most  wonderful  little  supper  ever  served  at  midnight 
on  short  notice,  delicious  tea,  good  bread  and  butter, 
and  the  most  toothsome  small  birds,  served  hot  on 
toast  in  a  casserole.  Where  in  a  Western  frontier 
town  could  one  find  the  like  ? 

But  it  was  not  until  I  waked  the  next  morning  that 
I  realized  how  very  Western  Kiakhta  is  :  humble  log 
houses  side  by  side  with  pretentious  stuccoed  build- 
ings, rickety  wooden  sidewalks  or  none  at  all,  streets 
ankle-deep  in  dust  one  day,  a  bog  the  next;  but  the 
handful  of  fine  residences,  and  above  all  the  great 
white  church  costing  fabulous  sums  in  decorations, 


304  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

tell  of  Kiakhta's  great  commercial  past,  a  history  that 
goes  back  two  hundred  years,  when  Gobi  was  alive 
with  the  long  lines  of  camel  caravans  coming  and 
going  between  the  Great  Wall  and  the  Russian 
border.  Those  were  the  days  when  the  great  tea 
merchants  of  Kiakhta  heaped  up  huge  fortunes,  to 
squander  them  in  ways  common  to  the  suddenly  rich 
all  over  the  world.  But  with  the  building  of  the  rail- 
way, trade  turned  aside,  and  to-day  the  town  bears 
the  marks  of  decaying  fortunes.  The  storehouses  are 
half  empty,  many  of  the  great  merchant  families  have 
gone  away  or  are  ruined,  and  were  it  not  for  the 
regiments  stationed  at  this  frontier  post,  Kiakhta 
would  be  wrapped  in  the  silence  of  the  desert.  It 
remains  to  be  seen  what  will  be  the  effect  of  the  rail- 
way Russia  proposes  to  build  between  Verchneudinsk 
and  Urga.  It  may  give  new  life  to  the  town,  but  of 
course  it  is  military  and  political  in  its  purpose  rather 
than  commercial.  During  my  four  days'  trip  from 
Urga  there  was  very  little  traffic  coming  or  going, 
and  unless  Mongolia's  resources  prove  unexpectedly 
rich,  the  days  of  Kiakhta's  prosperity  are  gone  be- 
yond recall. 

But  I  did  not  stop  long  to  investigate  either  the 
past  or  the  present  interest  of  Kiakhta,  for  by  the 
next  afternoon  I  was  off  again,  finally  ending  my  tar- 
antass  journey  some  eighteen  miles  north  of  the 
town,  in  a  great  lumberyard  on  the  right  bank  of 


NORTH  TO  THE  SIBERIAN  RAILWAY  305 

the  Iro,  the  starting-point  of  the  steamer  to  Verchneu- 
dinsk.  There,  together  with  some  scores  of  people, 
mostly  Russian  officers  and  their  families,  I  kicked 
my  heels  among  the  lumber  for  ten  hours,  waiting 
for  the  belated  boat.  It  rained  most  of  the  time,  and 
the  two  tiny  waiting-rooms  were  crowded  to  over- 
flowing with  people  and  luggage ;  there  was  no  res- 
taurant, and  I  should  have  starved  had  not  good 
Wang  made  friends  with  some  Chinese  workmen 
and  got  me  some  eggs.  Finally  we  were  told  the 
boat  would  not  come  till  morning,  so  each  person 
tried  to  find  a  corner  and  go  to  sleep.  I  had  just 
curled  up  comfortably,  at  one  end  of  a  great,  un- 
finished shed  where  the  horses  had  been  put  out  of 
the  rain,  when  a  cry  sounded  through  the  dark  that 
the  boat  was  coming.  By  one  o'clock  we  were  off. 
Everything  was  in  confusion  and  every  one  was 
cross.  I  had  secured  a  cabin  beforehand,  and  then 
found  I  was  expected  to  share  it  with  a  young  Rus- 
sian officer  going  home  on  leave.  I  quite  regretted 
my  airy,  quiet  corner  in  the  open  shed. 

All  the  next  day  we  were  steaming  in  leisurely 
fashion  down  the  Iro,  making  long  stops  at  little 
hamlets  in  the  forest,  where  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
half-dozen  log  houses  clustered  round  the  invariable 
white  church  with  green  domes  turned  out  to  meet 
us,  often  bringing  bottles  of  delicious  milk  to  sell. 
They  were  mostly  of  the  peasant  type,  large,  fair, 


306  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

and  stolid-looking.  The  scenery  along  the  river  was 
dull  and  monotonous,  low,  heavily  wooded  banks, 
broken  now  and  then  by  a  little  clearing.  It  was  a 
sodden,  unkempt,  featureless  country,  and  I  found 
myself  longing  for  the  journey's  end. 

On  the  boat  the  third-class  passengers  were  mostly 
Russian  peasants  and  a  few  Chinese,  with  a  little 
group  of  frightened-looking  Mongols.  I  fancy  they 
wished  themselves  back  in  the  desert ;  I  know  I  did. 
In  the  first  and  second  class  there  were  almost  none 
but  military  people,  the  men  all  in  full  uniform  of  be- 
wildering variety.  Most  of  them  were  tall  and  large, 
but  rather  rough  in  manner.  I  imagine  one  does  not 
find  the  pick  of  the  Russian  army  on  the  frontier. 

We  reached  Verchneudinsk  well  after  dark,  and 
a  queer  little  tumble-down  phaeton  took  us  to  the 
inn  chosen  because  of  its  German-speaking  landlord. 
Here  I  spent  two  days  waiting  for  the  Moscow  Ex- 
press. After  I  had  started  my  invaluable  Wang  off 
on  his  journey  back  to  Peking  by  way  of  Harbin  and 
Mukden,  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  rest  and  enjoy  the 
charming  courtesies  of  the  officials  of  the  Russo- 
Asiatic  Bank.  Verchneudinsk  has  little  of  interest, 
however ;  it  is  just  a  big,  new  town,  raw  and  unfin- 
ished, half  logs  and  half  stucco,  with  streets  that  are 
mostly  bog,  and  several  pretentious  public  buildings 
and  an  ugly  triumphal  arch  marking  the  visit  of  the 
Tsar  a  few  years  ago.  Civilization  has  some  com- 


NORTH  TO  THE  SIBERIAN  RAILWAY  307 

pensations,  but  half-civilization  is  not  attractive ;  and 
it  was  a  happy  moment  when  I  found  myself  with 
Jack  in  my  own  little  compartment  on  the  Moscow 
Express,  westward  and  homeward  bound. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

A  FEW   FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  CHINA 

IT  is  rather  presumptuous  for  the  strolling  West- 
erner who  can  count  only  months  in  China  to 
have  any  impressions  at  all  of  anything  so  huge,  so 
old,  so  varied,  so  complicated  as  China  and  its  peo- 
ple, and  still  more  inexcusable  to  put  these  impres- 
sions before  the  world.  And  yet  it  may  be  possible 
to  find  some  sort  of  an  excuse  if  one  is  bent  on 
doing  it. 

We  live  to-day  in  a  time  of  surprises.  Turkey  is 
reforming,  China  waking  up,  the  self-satisfied  com- 
placency of  the  white  race  has  received  a  shock,  and 
more  are  feared.  Most  of  us  of  the  West  are  anxious 
to  get  over  the  wall,  or  look  around  it,  —  we  are  told 
it  is  there,  —  and  see  what  that  other  man  is  really 
like.  We  read  books  written  by  those  who  have  spent 
years  in  China,  in  Japan,  in  India,  and  we  realize  that 
they  know  thoroughly  this  or  that  corner  of  the  whole. 
We  talk  with  the  man  who  has  lived  his  life  among 
the  people  of  the  East,  and  we  feel  that  he  has 
plumbed  them  to  the  core  —  along  one  line.  He  has 
preached  to  them,  he  has  healed  them,  he  has  traded 
with  them,  and  he  knows  them  as  the  doctor  or  the 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  CHINA       309 

trader  knows  his  community.  The  men  and  women 
of  the  West  who  have  spent  their  lives  in  the  East 
have  usually  gone  there  with  definite  purpose  and 
compelling  duties.  They  rarely  see  more  than  one 
part  of  the  whole  country,  their  work  holds  them 
fast,  and  they  are  prone  to  see  it  from  the  point  of 
view  of  the  interest  that  took  them  there.  Out  of 
these  chapters  of  intimate  knowledge  can  be  put 
together  a  great  exhaustive  study  of  the  whole,  but 
no  one  has  done  that  yet ;  the  time  has  not  come, 
perhaps. 

Now  the  traveller  with  no  preoccupying  purpose, 
and  fresh  from  a  bird's  eye  view  of  large  sections  of 
the  country,  is  likely  to  talk  a  good  deal  of  nonsense, 
and  yet  he  may  tell  some  things  of  interest  that  the 
old  resident  has  ceased  to  see  from  very  familiarity. 
If  you  mention  them,  he  says,  "of  course,"  but  to 
those  at  home  they  are  not  "  of  course,"  and  some- 
times they  are  worth  telling. 

My  first  and  my  most  lasting  impression  of  the 
Chinese  was  how  very  like  they  are  to  us.  I  had 
been  told  it  was  a  mistake  to  approach  China  from 
the  east :  you  touched  twelve  at  once.  Nowhere  would 
you  find  another  country  and  people  so  strange,  so 
different  from  anything  before  imagined.  Rather  you 
should  approach  China  from  the  west,  then  with  each 
stage  as  you  travelled  eastward  stranger  and  ever 
stranger  worlds  would  open  before  you.  That  is  what 


3io  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

I  did ;  it  just  happened  so.  India  was  already  some- 
what known  to  me,  and  on  this  trip  I  stopped  there 
only  a  few  weeks,  seeing  each  day  more  that  was 
difficult  to  understand,  and  then  I  went  on  to  China, 
and  to  my  great  surprise  felt  myself  almost  at  home. 

Of  course  at  first  sight  most  things  were  queer, 
that  is  to  say,  different  from  what  they  are  in  the  West. 
The  men  wore  their  hair  braided  down  their  backs, 
and  the  women  dressed  in  trousers,  and  both  mourned 
in  white.  The  seat  of  honour  was  on  the  left,  not  on 
the  right,  and  when  people  greeted  you  they  shook 
hands  with  themselves.  All  that  one  is  prepared  for, 
but  being  prepared  does  not  take  away  from  the  im- 
pression of  queerness.  But  even  from  the  beginning, 
and  the  feeling  grew  stronger  as  the  days  lengthened 
into  weeks  and  the  weeks  into  months,  underneath 
this  surface  difference  the  Chinese  seemed  to  me 
more  like  ourselves,  or  maybe  our  ancestors,  more 
like  us  at  one  stage  or  another,  than  any  other  peo- 
ple of  the  East  that  I  had  known. 

In  India,  as  every  one  knows,  religion  dominates 
the  life  of  the  people.  A  man  is  first  of  all  a  follower 
of  a  certain  creed,  a  Hindu  or  a  Moslem,  and  the  ob- 
servances of  that  creed  control  his  daily  acts  in  a 
way  to  which  there  is  no  parallel  in  the  West —  or 
in  China.  The  principles  of  Christianity  underlie  the 
best  of  Western  civilization,  but  the  majority  of  men 
in  Europe  or  America  pay  little  conscious  heed  to 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  CHINA      311 

Christ's  teachings  as  they  make  the  daily  round  of 
work  and  pleasure,  and  generally  they  confine  their 
formal  religious  observances  to  one  day  of  the  week, 
if  as  often.  The  Chinese,  to  be  sure,  is  one  of  the 
most  superstitious  of  men,  but  there  is  little  more  re- 
ligion in  his  fears  than  is  implied  in  the  practices  of 
many  a  Westerner.  He  never  builds  a  straight  en- 
trance into  his  house,  for  he  believes  that  evil  spirits 
cannot  move  in  a  curved  line ;  and  across  the  world, 
people  who  call  him  names  because  of  this  refuse  to 
sit  down  thirteen  at  table.  The  malign  influences  ap- 
peased, the  average  Chinese  goes  his  way  untroubled 
or  unconsoled  by  any  thought  concerning  that  which 
is  to  come,  or  at  most  he  strives  to  acquire  merit,  not 
for  a  week  only,  but  for  the  whole  year,  by  some  pil- 
grimage much  more  strenuous  than  church-going. 
Like  the  Western  man  of  to-day  he  also  is  impatient 
of  priestly  control,  and  is  apt  to  say  slighting  things 
of  his  spiritual  leaders.  His  mind  is  set,  not  on  things 
above,  but  on  the  bread-and-butter,  or,  more  precisely, 
rice,  aspect  of  life.  The  scale  of  rewards  is  different, 
but  the  mainspring  of  daily  living  is  much  the  same 
in  the  Far  East  and  the  Far  West. 

Or  put  it  in  another  way :  with  Chinese  and  man 
of  the  West  alike,  national  standards,  national  aims, 
all  bear  the  mark  of  the  industrial  world.  In  America 
and  in  Europe  the  chief  concern  is  industry,  —  indus- 
try in  the  large  sense,  agriculture,  manufacture,  com- 


312  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

merce.  These  are  the  interests  that  concern  the  people, 
that  control  their  policy.  In  India  religion  holds  this 
place,  while  in  Japan  the  ideals  of  the  old  social  order 
were  military,  and  in  a  measure  that  is  still  true  of 
the  new.  But  in  China  material  interests  have  full 
possession  of  the  field,  and  the  strong  man  of  the 
Chinese  nation  is  not  the  soldier  or  the  priest,  but 
the  merchant. 

And  there  is  something  very  Western,  very  Ameri- 
can, as  America  used  to  be,  in  the  small  part  played 
by  the  Government  in  the  life  of  the  ordinary  Chinese. 
If  he  does  not  misbehave  and  keeps  out  of  a  lawsuit, 
he  rarely  comes  in  contact  with  his  rulers.  He  is  ac- 
quainted with  the  saying  of  Mencius  that "  the  people 
are  of  the  highest  importance,  the  gods  come  second, 
the  sovereign  is  of  lesser  weight,"  and  he  knows  the 
place  of  the  Government,  but  he  expects  little  from 
it,  and  neither  does  he  fear  it. 

It  is  the  district  officer  who  represents  to  the  ordi- 
nary Chinese  the  Government,  and  there  are  about 
fifteen  hundred  of  these  in  the  eighteen  provinces, 
about  one  to  every  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
of  the  population.  The  headman  of  the  village  is  the 
only  official  of  whom  the  Chinese  really  knows  much, 
and  he  is  one  of  the  village  folk,  governing  by  home- 
made rules  of  very  ancient  date,  and  never  interfer- 
ing if  he  can  help  it.  Policemen  are  few,  and  the  va- 
rious inquisitorial  boards  and  officers  that  make  us 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  CHINA      313 

clean  and  sanitary  and  safe  in  spite  of  ourselves  are 
simply  non-existent.  No  one  inspects  the  Chinese 
garbage  pail  except  the  pig,  or  sniffs  about  for  defec- 
tive drains,  or  insists  upon  a  man's  keeping  the  road- 
way in  front  of  his  house  in  order,  or  compels  him  to 
have  his  children  vaccinated.  The  tyranny  of  the 
majority  may  exist  in  China,  but  it  is  not  exercised 
through  the  Government.  The  Chinese  as  he  is  to- 
day has  been  fashioned  and  shaped  by  long-inherited 
custom,  and  the  dead  hand  rests  heavily  upon  him, 
but  he  is  not  a  government  product,  nor  is  he  likely 
to  be  just  yet. 

And  the  Chinese  is  democratic  in  very  much  the 
same  way  that  the  American  is.  If  there  has  been  an 
aristocracy  at  all,  it  has  been  essentially  one  of  race, 
the  conqueror  and  the  conquered,  and  hereditary 
distinctions  have  played  a  very  small  part  in  the  past 
outside  Peking  and  the  Manchu  circle.  An  official 
career  is,  in  theory,  and  in  good  measure  in  practice, 
open  to  the  man  who  is  fit,  no  matter  what  his  ante- 
cedents ;  and  the  poor  boy  has  quite  as  good  a  chance 
to  make  himself  fit  for  all  save  the  highest  posts  as 
in  America.  Nor  is  there  always  much  to  choose  be- 
tween the  American  and  Chinese  standard  of  fitness. 
To  regard  success  as  commander  in  a  small  war  as 
qualifying  a  man  for  the  civil  headship  of  a  great 
industrial  state  does  not  seem  much  more  reasonable 
than  to  make  skill  in  writing  a  literary  essay  the  test 


3H  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

for  a  high  military  post.  And  one  thing  more,  the 
Chinese,  in  so  many  things  essentially  democratic, 
abases  himself  before  the  power  of  riches  as  much  as 
the  American,  and  far  more  than  any  other  Asiatic. 
Now,  since  the  Chinese  expects  little  of  the  gov- 
ernment, he  has  learned  to  rely  upon  himself  and  his 
fellows.  Like  the  Englishman  and  the  American,  and 
unlike  the  Frenchman  and  the  German,  he  takes  the 
initiative.  The  Government  is  weak,  the  individual 
or  group  of  individuals  strong ;  the  Government  does 
little,  so  the  other  side  does  much.  All  over  the  East, 
—  in  Burma,  Indo-China,  the  Malay  States,  the  Phil- 
ippines, wherever  he  can  force  an  entrance,  —  you 
find  the  Chinese  merchant  and  the  Chinese  coolie, 
and  it  is  no  state-managed  enterprise  that  takes  them 
there.  Just  as  the  British  workmen  emigrate,  or  the 
British  merchants  seek  out  new  markets,  so  the  Chi- 
nese make  their  way  without  leading  or  assistance. 
And  they  succeed  ;  throughout  all  that  territory  that 
lies  between  the  China  Sea  and  the  Bay  of  Bengal, 
whether  under  British  or  French  rule,  unless  actually 
barred  out,  the  Chinese  is  entrenching  himself  and 
prospering.  Heavy  poll-taxes  alone  keep  him  from 
controlling  trade  and  the  labour  market  in  Indo- 
China  ;  in  the  Malay  States  he  is  ousting  the  native 
and  running  the  British  merchant  and  banker  hard ; 
in  Burma  he  is  getting  more  and  more  control  of 
trade,  and  has  even  succeeded  in  convincing  the 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  CHINA      315 

Burmese  woman  that  he  makes  a  better  sort  of 
husband  than  her  charming  but  indolent  countryman. 

To  turn  to  smaller  matters.  I  am  sure  I  had  once 
known,  but  I  had  certainly  quite  forgotten,  that  the 
Chinese,  like  ourselves  and  unlike  other  people  of 
the  East,  sit  on  chairs  in  preference  to  sitting  on  their 
heels.  For  it  gave  me  a  little  comfortable  shock  of 
surprise  when  I  saw  my  coolies  at  dinner  sitting  on 
benches  around  the  table,  "  just  like  folks,"  instead 
of  squatting  on  the  ground  after  the  fashion  of  my 
Indian  servants.  It  is  a  small  thing,  but  it  marks  the 
Chinese  off  from  all  other  Asiatics,  and  brings  him  a 
little  nearer  the  West ;  and  I  do  not  wonder  at  the 
touch  of  pride  in  the  answer  of  the  Chinese  student 
at  a  New  England  college  when  some  one  remarked 
on  seeing  her  sitting  on  the  ground,  college-girl 
fashion,  with  a  number  of  her  classmates,  that  it 
probably  came  easier  to  her  to  do  that,  as  she  was 
used  to  it,  "  Oh,  no  ;  I  think  you  must  be  confusing 
us  with  the  Japanese.  We  Chinese  learned  to  sit  on 
chairs  two  thousand  years  ago." 

But  not  only  do  the  Chinese  sit  on  chairs  like  our- 
selves, but  they  "  dine,"  just  as  the  West  does.  Not 
merely  are  they  ready  to  spend  freely  on  the  pleasures 
of  the  table,  but  they  make  of  dinner  a  social  func- 
tion, longer  and  more  elaborate,  and  sometimes  even 
more  deadly  dull  than  grand  dinners  at  home.  The 
un-Europeanized  Indian,  rich  or  poor,  is  abstemious ; 


316  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

he  eats  simply  to  satisfy  hunger,  and  dining  is  with 
him  no  more  a  social  occasion  than  taking  a  bath  at 
home,  —  much  less,  indeed,  than  his  own  bathing, 
which  seems  to  be  often  both  a  religious  and  a  social 
act.  He  would  not  think  of  entertaining  his  friends  at 
a  dinner  party.  But  my  coolies  at  the  wayside  inns 
spent  jovial  hours  over  their  meals,  and  the  gay 
Manchu  or  Chinese  diners  that  I  watched  at  the  Pe- 
king hotel  might  have  been  Americans  at  the  Wal- 
dorf-Astoria, barring  a  few  details.  And  it  seemed 
very  Western,  only  it  was  quite  Chinese,  for  the  chief 
of  the  Kalgan  Foreign  Office  to  express  his  regrets 
that  my  stay  was  too  short  for  him  to  arrange  a  din- 
ner party  for  me. 

So  much  has  been  said  of  the  differences  that  exist 
in  China,  of  the  wide  separation  between  North  and 
South  and  West,  that  I  had  expected  to  find  repeated 
there  the  conditions  of  India.  But  externally  nothing 
of  the  sort  was  observable.  To  begin  with,  almost  all 
Chinese  have  black  hair,  almost  all  wear  blue  clothes, 
and  almost  all  eat  rice.  And  the  obvious  differences 
between  the  natives  of  Chihli  and  the  natives  of 
Kwangtung,  for  example,  are  no  greater  than  you 
would  note  in  passing  from  Maine  to  Mississippi ; 
while  in  Yunnan  and  Szechuan,  just  as  in  the  Western 
States  of  America,  you  seem  to  be  among  people 
from  "  back  East,"  only  slightly  modified  by  different 
conditions  of  climate  and  life. 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS   OF  CHINA      317 

The  estimate  given  me  by  the  Chinese  Consul- 
General  at  Singapore,  a  Kwangtung  man,  as  to  the 
proportion  of  the  whole  population  speaking  some 
form  of  Mandarin,  was  about  three  hundred  millions 
out  of  a  possible  three  hundred  and  sixty  millions, 
and  this  agrees  with  other  statements  that  I  have 
seen.  If  this  be  so,  then  the  enormous  majority  of 
the  people  have  the  bond  of  a  common  tongue.  And 
more  than  that,  all  the  educated  —  a  small  propor- 
tion, of  course,  although  many  more  know  a  few 
symbols  —  have  a  common  written  language. 

But  as  Confucius  said  thousands  of  years  ago,  "  not 
all  words  are  in  books,  nor  all  thoughts  in  words," 
and  the  traditions  of  nature  worship,  Taoism,  Bud- 
dhism, of  Confucius  himself,  have  all  put  their  stamp 
upon  the  Chinese,  whether  of  the  North  or  South, 
and  the  journeying  coolie  (and  it  must  be  remem- 
bered he  is  a  great  wanderer),  no  matter  where  he 
goes  in  China,  will  find  himself  among  men  who  re- 
cognize the  same  obligations,  cringe  under  the  same 
superstitious  fears,  and  strive  toward  the  same  goal 
of  material  well-being  as  himself.  Fundamental  dif- 
ferences do  certainly  exist ;  North  and  South  China 
are  divided  in  speech,  and  the  people  are  unlike, 
physically  and  mentally,  but  I  wonder  if  the  separ- 
ation is  really  deeper  than  that  between  the  Northern 
and  the  Southern  States  in  America  to-day. 

We  talk  of  China  as  in  decay,  of  the  Chinese  as 


318  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

aged,  and  the  country  as  exhausted.  It  is  true  the 
soil  has  been  man-handled  for  ages,  like  the  soil  of 
India,  but  over  great  areas  it  constantly  renews  its 
fertility,  and,  anyway,  most  of  China's  resources  are 
underground,  untouched.  The  Government  of  last 
year  was  rotten  to  the  core ;  it  had  outlived  its  day. 
But  the  Government  was  not  the  people,  and  the 
Chinese  are  neither  worn  out  nor  unsound. 

I  think  it  must  be  because  everything  seems  fin- 
ished in  China  that  people  talk  about  her  decay.  The 
whole  thing  impresses  you  as  having  been  made  and 
completed,  after  a  fashion,  a  long  time  ago.  Nowhere, 
save  where  the  touch  of  the  West  has  been  felt,  do 
you  see  things  being  tried  for  the  first  time.  Every- 
thing has  been  done  in  China  so  many,  many  times, 
for  so  many  centuries,  and  the  results  have  spread 
abroad  all  over  the  empire ;  everywhere,  in  the  re- 
motest corners,  you  find  the  same  ingeniously  con- 
trived commercial  system,  the  same  symmetrical  and 
complicated  social  order.  Being  a  very  clever  and 
resourceful  people  that  has  lived  a  long  time,  the 
Chinese  have  found  out  a  great  many  things  for 
themselves,  and  as  there  was  no  other  clever  and  re- 
sourceful people  at  hand  to  incite  them  to  other  and 
better  ways  of  doing  some  things,  they  went  on  as 
they  were,  neither  spending  their  strength  nor  sharp- 
ening their  wits  in  trying  experiments.  Indeed,  ex- 
perimenting stopped  centuries  ago ;  each  natural 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  CHINA      319- 

difficulty,  every  social  and  economic  problem  had 
been  met  and  answered  in  some  sort  of  way,  and  so 
the  people  lived  year  after  year,  doing  things  just  as 
their  fathers  had  done  them.  And  now  they  impress 
one  as  very  experienced,  though  old-fashioned ;  but 
not  aged,  —  no,  not  at  all. 

On  the  contrary,  face  to  face  with  the  Chinese  at 
home,  one  is  overwhelmed  by  an  impression  of  power, 
—  actual  power,  potential  power,  power  of  the  indi- 
vidual, power  of  the  group,  power  well  used,  power 
misspent.  The  impression  is  almost  stunning.  You 
seem  to  be  watching  a  community  of  ants,  persistent, 
untiring,  organized,  only  the  ant-hill  is  a  town,  and 
the  ants  are  men  physically  strong,  gluttons  for  work, 
resourceful,  adaptable,  cheerful.  Then  multiply  such 
ant-hills  by  thousands  and  you  have  China.  For  not 
merely  is  the  Chinese  the  best  worker  in  the  world, 
but  he  also  leads  in  organization.  No  Chinese  stands 
alone ;  behind  him  is  the  family,  the  clan,  the  guild. 
He  does  not  confront  life  naked  and  solitary,  he  is 
one  of  a  group ;  that  gives  him  confidence,  and  keeps 
him  under  control.  It  makes  it  both  easier  and  more 
difficult  to  deal  with  him.  Treat  him  unjustly,  and 
you  are  fighting,  not  a  man  but  a  group.  But  if  he 
wrongs  you,  you  have  a  hold  upon  him,  you  can  call 
him  to  account  through  his  group. 

And  the  power  of  organization  smooths  greatly  the 
daily  machinery  of  living  in  China.  As  I  leaned  over 


320  A  WAYFARER  IN   CHINA 

the  side  of  the  steamer  in  Singapore  Harbour,  watch- 
ing the  seven  hundred  coolies  come  aboard  that  we 
were  taking  home  to  Kwangtung  province,  the  chief 
officer  remarked  to  me,  "  A  thousand  Chinese  make 
us  less  trouble  than  one  Indian  "  ;  and  he  went  on  to 
explain,  "  When  we  enter  here,  half  a  dozen  Chinese 
boarding-house  keepers  come  on  board  and  ask  how 
much  deck-room  we  have.  They  agree  on  what  they 
want,  and  then  each  stakes  out  his  claim,  as  it  were, 
with  bits  of  red  paper  emblazoned  with  Chinese  char- 
acters. A  little  later  coolies  come,  bringing  the  lug- 
gage of  the  home-going  Chinese,  each  thing  marked 
with  a  piece  of  red  paper  with  the  same  black  letter- 
ing. They  ask  no  questions,  but  look  about  until  they 
have  found  the  corresponding  marks  on  the  deck, 
and  there  they  unload.  And  later  the  Kwangtung 
men  arrive,  each  with  a  red  ticket,  and  they  too  ask 
no  questions,  but  just  hunt  up  their  things  all  prop- 
erly marked,  and  then  proceed  to  make  themselves 
comfortable.  And  no  one  is  bothered." 

Or  to  turn  to  larger  things,  what  was  it  but  this 
same  power  of  organization  that  made  ready  a  great 
revolutionary  movement,  permeating  a  population 
of  three  hundred  odd  millions,  and  spreading  over 
an  area  of  a  million  and  a  half  square  miles,  and  all 
so  well  and  secretly  done  that,  though  suspected,  it 
could  not  be  discovered  ?  The  Turkish  Revolution 
seemed  a  triumph  of  secret  preparation,  but  there 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  CHINA      321 

the  task  was  to  convert  an  organization  already 
made  ;  here  it  was  necessary  both  to  arouse  and  to 
organize. 

But  then  China  has  ages  of  experience,  both  in 
organizing  and  in  rebelling,  back  of  to-day.  Estab- 
lishing a  Republic,  however,  is  something  new ;  the 
Chinese  have  never  before  tried  their  hand  at  that, 
but  if  they  will  only  bring  into  play  now  all  their 
undoubted  power  of  organization,  of  resource,  of 
moderation,  they  will  certainly  make  a  success  of 
their  new  experiment  in  government.  Given  time, 
and  they  will  do  it.  Perhaps  my  view  of  China's 
future  is  rose-coloured.  But  the  thing  seen  and  felt 
is  of  tremendous  force,  and  the  impression  of  power 
that  the  Chinese  made  upon  me  was  rather  over- 
whelming. And,  anyway,  a  friendly  opinion  may  be 
pardoned  in  one  who,  during  months  of  solitary 
travel  in  China,  never  met  anything  but  courtesy  and 
consideration  from  all,  whether  coolie  on  the  road, 
villager  or  innkeeper,  official  or  priest. 


THE  END 


INDEX 


INDEX 


ABDUR  RAHMAN,  Amir  of  Afghan- 
istan, quoted,  288. 

Agriculture,  U.  S.  Department  of, 
207. 

Amban,  the,  253. 

American  Baptist  Mission,  81,  85, 
158,  183. 

American  engineers,  surveying  in 
Yunnan,  29. 

American  Legation,  the,  at  Pe- 
king, 232,  237. 

A-Mi-chou,  21,  22. 

Amur  River,  251. 

Annamese,  in  Haiphong,  appear- 
ance and  dress  of,  12,  13;  and 
the  Red  River  R.R.,  15. 

Annamese  police,  7,  8. 

Annamese  Tirailleurs,  18,  19. 

Anning  River,  valley  of,  the  short- 
est trade-route  between  Sze- 
chuan  and  Indo-China,  71 ;  78, 
89. 

Arnold  Arboretum,  66. 

Assam  hills,  life  on  tea-planta- 
tions of,  17,  18. 

Baber,  Colborne,  in  Chien 
Ch'ang,  74;  cited,  90,  106,  171, 
181,  182,  191,  204. 

Baikal,  Lake,  236. 

Bailey,  Captain,  English  officer  at 
Tachienlu  126  ff.;  his  later  ex- 
plorations, 127;  defends  Tibe- 
tans, 132;  139,  175. 

Barrow,  riding  in  a,  169. 

Batang,  124,  126,  128,  131,  160. 

Bayard,  Fort,  7,  8. 

Beggars,  absence  of,  in  West 
China,  46. 


Bishop,  Mrs.  Bird,  216. 

Black  Rock  Rapid,  216,  217. 

Bogda  Ola  (Holy  Mountain),  274, 
282. 

Bogdo,  the  Living  Buddha,  status 
of,  277;  superstitions  concern- 
ing, 278;  a  second-rate  god, 
278;  his  motor-cars,  279.  And 
see  Gigin,  the. 

Bonze,  the,  his  Buddhism,  282. 

Boxer  rising  (1900),  28,  225,  233. 

Brick  tea,  transportation  of,  105, 
106;  how  prepared,  159,  160. 

Bridges  in  Yunnan,  61. 

British  American  Tobacco  Co., 
67.  183,  235,  242. 

Brooke,  Lieutenant,  murder  of, 
by  Lolos,  75. 

Buddha,  colossal  figure  of,  at 
Chia-ting,  180,  181,  182,  200, 
201;  reigns  supreme  on  Omei, 
189;  his  tooth  at  Wan-nien  Ssu, 
191. 

Buddha,  the  Living,  253,  277. 
And  see  Bogdo  and  Gigin. 

"Buddha's  Glory,"  189. 

Buddhism,  and  lamaism,  138; 
many  forms  of,  282;  lamaism  a 
"black  travesty  "  of,  282;  317. 

Buggy,  an  American,  in  Mongo- 
lia, 257,  264. 

Burma,  Upper,  3. 

Burmese,  the,  12. 

Caindu  (Chien  Ch'ang),  74. 

Calcutta,  112. 

Camel   Road,  Kalgan  to  Urga, 

245  /• 
Camels,  in  Mongolia,  263. 


326 


INDEX 


Cameras,  feeling  of  Chinese  to- 
ward, 156,  157. 

Canadian  Methodist  Mission, 
183. 

Canton,  House  of  the  Dead  at, 
87;  24,  29,  222. 

Cart  Road,  Kalgan  to  Urga,  244. 

Catty,  the,  33. 

Cave-dwellings,  204. 

Chair-bearers,  their  traditional 
calls,  149,  150  and  n. 

Chala,  King  of,  his  summer  pal- 
ace, 133,  134-136;  his  troubles, 

I35J  125- 

Chang-ho-pa,  148-150. 

Changsha,  outbreak  at,  226,  227. 

Chang-te-ho,  224,  227. 

Chang-Tien- You,  railway  engin- 
eer, 234. 

Chao  Erh  Feng,  death  of,  125. 

Chen  River,  123. 

Chen  Chia  Ch'ang,  theatrical  per- 
formance at,  185. 

Chengtu,  missionaries  from,  133; 
under  the  "Emperor  of  the 
West,"  171,  172;  the  modern 
city,  172  ff.;  its  fine  silks  and  em- 
broidery, 172,  173;  its  shops, 
173, 175 ;  British  Consul-General 
at,  173;  European  community 
of,  173,  174;  missionaries  at, 
174;  Tartar  population  of,  174; 
the  Manchu  quarter,  174,  175; 
one  of  the  most  advanced  cities 
of  China,  175;  police  of,  176; 
French  Consul-General  at,  176; 
university  of,  and  its  students, 
176,  177 ;  railway  question 
and  the  revolution  at,  177; 
rivalry  between  Chung-king 
and,  209;  24,  42,  105,  198,  203, 
226. 

Chengtu,  plain  of,  167  ff.;  its  peo- 
ple, 167;  its  bad  roads,  167. 


Cheng-kiang,  163. 

Cheo,  Mr.,  211. 

Che-pei,  56. 

Cheung-chou,  Richthofen  quoted 
concerning,  165,  166,  167. 

Chiang-yi,  65. 

Chia-ting,  seat  of  white-wax  in- 
dustry, 73;  the  "rose-red  city," 
180  ff.;  the  flood  of  1786,  181, 
182 ;  its  insalubrious  climate, 
183;  Protestant  missions  at, 
183;  warfare  over  cigarette- 
smoking  at,  183 ;  coolie  hongs  in, 
183;  the  first  city  in  Szechuan 
to  declare  for  the  Republic,  201 ; 
161,  178,  179,  203,  204. 

Chia-ting  plain,  beauty  of,  180; 
subject  to  floods,  181;  184. 

Chien-Ch'ang,  district  of,  diver- 
sity of  crops  in,  71,  72;  poppy 
banished  from,  72,  94;  white- 
wax  industry  of,  72,  73;  almost 
unknown  to  Western  world  un- 
til lately,  73,  74;  dangers  of 
travelling  in,  due  to  neighbour- 
hood of  Lolos,  74,  75;  recent 
steps  of  government  to  ensure 
safety  in,  77. 

Chien-Ch'ang  valley,  33,  42. 

Chien-Men,  the  (Peking),  230. 

Chihli,  province  of,  227,  316. 

Children  in  the  East,  how 
"brought  up,"  284. 

Chin  Ch'uan,  region  of,  almost 
unknown  to  Europeans,  119. 

Chin  Ch'uan  River,  78,  118. 

Chin  Tien  (Golden  Temple),  32. 

Chin  Tien  Monastery,  on  summit 
of  Omei  Shan,  193-199. 

China,  and  Tibet,  meet  in  Ta- 
chienlu,  123;  western  boundary 
of,  124;  revolution  in,  effect  of, 
on  relations  between  China  and 
Tibet,  uncertain,  125;  group- 


INDEX 


327 


ing  of  trees  in,  154;  status  of 
missionaries  in,  158,  159;  fruit 
and  vegetables  in,  206;  and 
Mongolia,  meet  at  Kalgan,  235; 
hold  of,  on  North  Mongolia, 
insecure,  285;  is  she  in  decay? 
317,  318;  impression  produced 
by,  318,  319;  her  future,  321. 
And  see  Chinese  and  Chinese 
Government. 

China,  West.   See  West  China. 

China  Inland  Mission,  126,   216. 

Chinese,  the,  characteristics  of, 
42,  43;  their  footwear,  44; 
of  Yunnan  and  Szechuan,  physi- 
cal characteristics  of,  51;  dote 
on  children,  56;  climatic  sus- 
ceptibilities of,  58;  and  their 
dead,  87,  88;  spend  freely  for 
food,  1 08;  how  sacred  places  are 
used  by,  113;  their  lack  of 
nerves,  how  illustrated,  120;  in 
Tachienlu,  124,  131;  military 
achievements  of ,  125, 126;  good 
manners  of,  129;  their  feeling 
toward  the  camera,  156,  157; 
ordinarily  peaceable,  176;  their 
fondness  for  theatrical  per- 
formances, 185;  friendly  rela- 
tions of  Europeans  and,  in 
Chung-king,  209;  their  drama- 
tic ways,  230;  their  interference 
in  Mongolia,  253;  unwelcome 
aliens  there,  276;  how  like  they 
are  to  us!  309  ff.;  their  self- 
reliance,  314;  found  all  over  the 
East,  314;  slight  outward  vari- 
ations in,  in  different  parts  of 
the  Empire,  316;  a  vast  major- 
ity of,  have  a  common  tongue, 
317.  And  see  Coolies. 

Chinese  city,  the,  in  Peking,  230. 

Chinese  funeral,  a,  142. 

Chinese  Government,  projects  of 


railways  in  Yunnan,  29;  said  to 
encourage  lamaism  in  Mon- 
golia, 282. 

Chinese  inns.   See  Inns. 

Chinese  laborers,  on  the  Red 
River  R.R.,  15. 

Chinese  mob,  the  176. 

Chinese  revolution.  See  Revolu- 
tion. 

Chinese  temples.  See  Temples, 
Chinese. 

Chinese  women.  See  Women, 
Chinese.  . 

Ch'ing  Ch'i,  105. 

Chit  (letter  of  recommendation), 
the,  211,  212. 

"Chou,"  meaning  of,  in  place- 
names,  3  in. 

Christians,  Chinese,  in  Hui-li- 
chou,  70;  superiority  of,  to  their 
fellows,  128,  129. 

"  Chuman  "  pagodas,  of  Szechuan, 
204. 

Chu-ma-tien,  224. 

Ch'un,  Prince,  Regent,  231. 

Chung-king,  the  Chicago  of  West 
China,  207-213;  a  treaty  port, 
208;  no  limit  to  its  develop- 
ment, 208;  missionaries  in,  208; 
foreign  community  in,  208,  209; 
friendliness  of  Europeans  and 
Chinese  in,  209;  rivalry  be- 
tween Chengtu  and,  209;  Mer- 
chant class  of,  209,  210;  cos- 
mopolitan club  at,  21  o,  2ii. 

Cigarettes,  67, 183. 

Cloud  Mountains,  the,  64,  65. 

Cloudy  Sun,  City  of  the,  214. 

Coffins,  Chinese,  93,  94. 

Colborne  Baber.  See  Baber. 

Colonial  expansion,  sought  by 
Doumer,  9. 

Confucius,  317. 

Constitution  of  the  U.  S.,  lecture 


328 


INDEX 


on  at  Chung-king  Men's  Club, 
210. 

Cooking,  in  Yunnan,  58. 

Coolies,  for  overland  journey,  im- 
portance of,  33;  contract  for, 
35,  36;  their  wages,  36;  their 
character  and  dress,  43;  their 
cleanliness,  48;  long  journeys 
often  undertaken  by,  212,  213; 
203,  204,  205.  See  Fu  t'ou  and 
Hong. 

Coolies  of  the  author's  caravan 
(hired  at  Yunnan-fu),  51 , 52, 56, 
57.  59,  65,  67,  79,  80,  83,  84; 
(hired  at  Ning-yiian-fu),  85,  96, 
97, 103,  i07»  108, 115, 121, 129, 
130,  141,  143,  144,  148,  156, 
162,  169,  170;  their  thought- 
fulness  and  good- will,  149;  dis- 
missed at  Chengtu,  178;  (hired 
at  Chia-ting),  183,  185. 

"Crooked  sterns,"  214. 

Cua-Cam  River,  n. 

Customs  regulations,  tend  to 
check  development  of  trade  in 
Tonking,  15. 

"Daisy/' 31. 

Dalai  Lama,  the,  277,  278. 
Davidson,  Warburton,  209,  210. 
DeMailla,  his  History  of  China, 

171. 
Dead,    the,    kept    unburied    in 

China,  87. 
Didier,  M.,  224. 
Dogs,  in  Mongolia,  259. 
Dong  Dang,  10. 
Doumer,  M.,  Governor  General 

of    Indo-China,    his   energetic 

forward  policy,  9-11;  and  the 

exposition  of  1902,  13. 
Dragon  Festival,  176. 

East,  characteristics  common  to, 
different  races  of,  42,  43. 


Eliot,  Sir  Charles,  quoted,  28. 

Emperor  of  Heaven,  Mountain  of 
the,  214. 

"Emperor  of  the  West,"  the,  at 
Chengtu,  171,  172. 

Erh-tsun,  53,  54. 

Escort  of  soldiers,  38-40;  why 
urged  upon  travellers,  38;  vag- 
aries of,  41, 121, 122;  change  of, 
55;  in  Szechuan,  77,  78,  98. 

Europeans,  and  native  women, 
17,  18;  and  Chinese,  in  Chung- 
king, 209. 

Exchange,  varying  rate  of,  97. 

Fan  t'an,  played  by  coolies,  59. 

Fei  Yiieh  Ling,  in. 

Ferry,  Jules,  'Thomme  de  Ton- 
king,"  9. 

Flowers,  profusion  of,  in  moun- 
tains of  Yunnan  and  Szechuan, 
62,  65,  66;  in  the  Ta  Tu  valley, 
144,  145;  north  of  Urga,  292. 

Foo-chou,  214. 

Food,  method  of  cooking  in  Yun- 
nan, 58,  59;  some  details  con- 
cerning, 108,  109-111. 

Forbidden  City,  the,  in  Peking, 
230. 

Foreign  Legion,  French,  18,  19. 

France  in  China,  18  ff.;  224,  225. 

French,  race-prejudice  among 
the,  18;  in  Yunnan,  29. 

French  consulates  in  Yunnan, 
like  fortified  outposts,  29. 

French  troops  in  Indo-China,  fa- 
miliar with  vernacular,  20. 

French  sisters,  141,  142. 

Friends'  Institute,  club  at  Chung- 
king, visit  to,  210,  21 1 ;  a  new 
departure  in  mission  work,  211. 

Friends'  Mission,  the,  at  Chung- 
king, 209,  210,  213. 

Fruit-growing  in  China,  206,  207. 


INDEX 


329 


"Fu,"  meaning  of,  in  place- 
names,  3  in. 

Fu  River,  the  Min  sometimes  so- 
called,  203. 

Fulin,  42,  89,  102,  103. 

Fu-ming-hsien,  55,  56. 

Fu  t'ou  (head  coolie),  and  "the 
squeeze,"  96,  97;  an  opium- 
smoker,  107,  108;  35,  36,  48, 
85,  130,  140,  151,  164,  165. 

Gardens,  in  Mongolia,  260. 

Genghis  Khan,  74,  281,  282. 

Gigin,  the  (the  Living  Buddha), 
Urga  the  home  of,  276,  277. 
And  see  Bogdo. 

Glass,  rarely  seen  in  West  China, 
40. 

Glorious  Dragon  Rapid,  214. 

Gobi  Desert,  crossing  the,  256 /.; 
the  outfit,  256,  257;  an  Amer- 
ican buggy  in,  257;  the  party, 
257,  258;  fine  weather  in,  258, 
259;  gardens  in,  260;  disad- 
vantages of  bathing  while  cross- 
ing, 262;  wild  life  in,  262,  263; 
vegetation  in,  264;  no  houses 
in,  264,  265;  235,  251,  252,  304. 

Goddess  of  Mercy.  See  Kuan  Yin. 

Goddess  of  Mercy  Rapid,  214. 

Goitre,  in  Southern  Szechuan,  68. 

Golden  Sand,  River  of,  the 
Yangtse  so  called,  64. 

Golden  Stream,  the,  118. 

Golden  Temple,  the,  32. 

Goosetail  Rock,  217. 

Gordon,  Charles  G.  ("Chinese"), 
229. 

Grape-nuts,  in  China,  240,  241. 

Great  Cold  Mountains,  the 
(Lololand),  75. 

Great  Encampment,  the.  See  Ta 
Huren. 

Great  Snow  Mountains,  117. 


Great  River,  the.    See  Yangtse. 
Great  Wall  of  China,  the,  at  Nan- 

kow,  234;  246,  285,  304. 
Gurkhas   of    Nepal,   beaten   by 

Chinese,  126. 

Hainan,  island  of,  n. 

Haiphong,  difficult  approach  to, 
1 1 ;  customs  officials  at,  1 1 ;  at 
police  headquarters  in,  12;  de- 
scribed, 12,  13;  3,  4,  5,  10. 

Haitang,  95,  96. 

Hakka,  142. 

Han  River,  and  Yangtse,  three 
cities  at  junction  of,  222. 

Han  Ytian  Kai,  104,  105. 

Han  Hai.  See  Gobi  Desert. 

Hankow,  the  Chicago  of  East 
China,  207;  and  its  sister  cities, 
222;  the  trading  centre  of  the 
three,  222;  the  revolution  at, 
222;  preparing  for  journey  to 
Peking  at,  223,  224;  38,  219, 
227. 

Hanoi,  capital  of  Tonking,  10; 
one  of  the  finest  cities  in  the  Far 
East,  13. 

Hanyang,  rival  of  Bombay  in 
manufactures,  222.  See  Han- 
kow. 

Heavenly  Mountains.  See  T'ien- 
Shan. 

Hei  Shi  Tan,  216,  217. 

Himis  lamassery,  124. 

Hoang  River,  bridge  across,  228; 
contrast  between,  and  Yangtse, 
228. 

Hoi-hou,  n,  29. 

Ho-k'ou,  10,  18,  19,  20,  66,  67. 

Honan,  province  of,  227. 

Hong  (guild),  coolie,  33,  35,  36. 

Hong  Kong,  where  East  and  West 
meet,  4;  essentials  of  outfit  pro- 
curable cheap  at,  4,  5;  240. 


330 


INDEX 


Hong  Kong  and  Shanghai  Bank, 

37- 

Horse  thieves,  warning  against, 
269. 

Horses,  in  Mongolia,  263. 

Hosie,  Sir  Alexander,  93,  94,  119. 

Hou  Wei  Tell,  243. 

Hsi-Liang,  and  the  opium  trade 
of  Yunnan,  25. 

Hsiao  Hsiang  Ling,  91. 

"Hsien,"  meaning  of,  in  place- 
names,  3  in. 

Hua-lin-ping,  112,  114,  161. 

Hue,  Abbe,  quoted,  249,  250, 279, 
280. 

Hui-li-chou,  European  women 
rare  visitors  to,  69;  native 
Christians  in,  70;  67,  68. 

Humphreys,  Dr.,  missionary,  81. 

Hupeh,  province  of,  38,  218,  227. 

Hupeh  money,  37,  38. 

Ichang,  from  Chung-king  to,  by 
river,  2i3jf.;  a  busy  place,  and 
why,  221 ;  its  location,  221, 222; 
177,  226. 

Impedimenta,  advice  as  to,  4-6; 
all  essentials  procurable  at 
Hong  Kong,  4. 

Imperial  City,  the,  in  Peking,  230. 

Imperial  Post-Office,  efficiency  of, 
127,  128. 

India,  310. 

Indo-China,  French  rule  in,  8,  9; 
under  Doumer,  9,  10;  little  out- 
ward difference  between  men 
and  women  of,  19. 

Inns,  in  villages,  47;  in  towns,  47, 
48;  plenty  of  hot  water  the  one 
luxury  of,  48;  foul-smelling,  48; 
in  Mongolia,  248. 

Intemperance,  absence  of,  in  East, 
simplifies  travel  there,  84. 

Interpreter,  the,  a  Kiangsi  man, 


4,  5;  his  democratic  instincts, 
203;  dismissed  at  Hankow,  224; 
34.  77,  78,  79,  86,  96,  97,  99, 
100,  108,  121,  133,  140,  151, 
152,  156,  178. 

Iro  River,  travelling  on,  305,  306. 

Irrawaddy  River,  71. 

Ivan,  tarantass  driver,  292,  294, 

297,  298,  299. 

Jack  (terrier),  6,  n,  12,  32,  33, 
34,  40,  45,  46,  60,  61,  95,  103, 
104,  108,  127,  140,  143,  146, 
147,  149,  151,  153,  166,  170, 
178,  192,  205,  224,  229,  239, 
259, 264, 265, 274, 275, 295, 297, 

298,  307. 

Jam,  in  praise  of,  240. 
Japan,  and  the  Manchurian  rail- 
way, 246. 

Japanese,  at  Chengtu,  175. 
Jardine,  Mattheson  &  Co.,  225. 
Jee-ka,  56. 

Kalgan,  China  and  Mongolia 
meet  at,  235;  main  roads  from, 
to  Urga,  244,  245;  an  outpost  of 
Russia,  246;  233,  238,  239,  241, 
242,  243,  252,  257,  266,  273, 
281. 

Kalgan-Peking  R.  R.  the  first  rail- 
way constructed  by  Chinese, 

234. 

Kang  (furnace),  248. 
Kang  Hi,  116. 
Kerosene,  white  wax  superseded 

by,  for  lighting,  73. 
Kiakhta,    "very   western,"   303, 

304;  its  great  commercial  past, 

304; 289. 

Kinsha  Kiang.  See  Yangtse  River. 
Ku  Niang  (author's  title),  140. 
Kuan  Yin  (Goddess  of  Mercy), 

temple  to,  113. 


INDEX 


331 


Kublai  Khan,  49,  74. 

Kung-tan,  214. 

Kwang-chou-wan,  7,  9;  bay  of,  7. 

Kwangtung,  province  of,  51,  105, 
316. 

Kwei-chou,  55. 

Kwei-fu,  the  "trackers'  Para- 
dise," 216;  change  in  attitude 
toward  foreigners  at,  216. 

Kweilu,  the,   river-steamer,  221. 

Ladakhis,  the,  effect  of  lamaism 

on,  282;  131,  146. 
Lamaism,     in    Tachienlu,    124; 

aspect    and    effects    of,    138; 

strength  of,  in  Mongolia,  279, 

280;  said  to  be  encouraged  by 

Chinese  Government,  281;  its 

effect  on  the  people,  281,  282;  a 

"  black  travesty  "  of  Buddhism, 

282. 
Lamas,  ferocity  of,  131;  different 

kinds  of,  279,  280,  281. 
Lamassery,  in  the  Gobi,  265,  at 

Tuerin,  268;  of  Bogdo,  at  Urga, 

277,  278. 
Lao-Kai,  18-20. 
Lao-pan  (boat-captain),  the,  213, 

215,  216. 
Laughter,  the  universal   solvent, 

60. 

Leng  Chi,  115. 
Lesser  Trail,  the,  140  ff. 
Lhasa,   road  to,  125,    134;    126, 

127,  128,  131,  160,  274,  280. 
Li   Ching   Hsi,   and   the  opium 

trade  of  Yunnan,  26;  and  the 

Pien-ma  question,  30. 
Li  Ping,  167. 
Li-chou,  86,  87. 

Lime  juice,  merits  of,  240,  241. 
"Lincoln,"  31. 
Literatus.  See  Interpreter. 
Little,  Archibald,  116,  209. 


Liu,  chair  coolie,  79,  84. 

Liu,  cook,  from  Chung-king,  5; 
dismissed  at  Hankow,  224;  38, 
45. 48, 56, 86, 103,  no,  140, 178, 
188,  202,  203,  2ii. 

Liu  Sha  River,  104. 

Loess  country,  the,  228. 

Lo-han,  182. 

Lololand,  the  mysterious,  67,  74, 
75;  neighborhood  of,  compli- 
cates travel  in  the  Chien 
Ch'ang,  75;  measures  taken  by 
government  thereanent,  77; 
92. 

Lolos,  in  Yunnan,  50;  "tame," 
75,  76;  their  ethnological  status 
a  problem,  76,  77;  their  proper 
appellation  uncertain,  76,  77; 
89,  90,  91,  92,  98,  189. 

Losus,  in  Yunnan,  50. 

Lu-Ting  Ch'iao,  bridge  at,  the 
only  connecting  link  between 
China  and  Tibet,  116, 117;  115, 
139,  142,  145,  161. 

Lu-Han  R.R.,  225,  227,  228. 

Lu-ku,  88. 

Lung-kai,  scanty  accommoda- 
tions at,  63;  101,  206. 

Ma- An  Shan  Pass,  145,  154. 

Ma-fu  (horse-boy),  48,  157,  161, 
164,  165. 

Mai-ma-chin,  one  of  the  three 
cities  in  Urga,  275,  276;  the 
Chinese  trading  settlement, 
276. 

Mai-ma-chin,  on  the  Siberian 
frontier,  302. 

Manchu  rule,  its  anti-opium  pol- 
icy one  of  the  causes  of  its  over- 
throw, 26. 

Manchuria,  55,  236. 

Manchus,  downfall  of,  and  the 
Six-Power  loan  of  1908,  226. 


332 


INDEX 


Mandarin  language,  some  form 
of,  spoken  by  five  sixths  of  the 
people  of  China,  317. 

Mandarin  Road,  the,  104  ff. 

Manners,  in  China,  129. 

Mekong  River,  71. 

Mencius,  quoted,  312. 

"Mercury,"  coolie,  107. 

Miaos,  in  Yunnan,  50. 

Mien-ning,  89. 

Military  schools,  in  Yunnan,  28. 

Military  spirit,  in  Yunnan,  27. 

Min  River,  travelling  on,  202  ff.', 
name  unknown  to  the  Chinese, 
203;  native  names  for,  203; 
scenery  on,  203,  204;  64,  73, 
178,  180. 

Ming  dynasty,  fall  of,  171. 

Ming  Shan  (mountain),  famous 
for  tea,  163. 

Ming  Shan-hsien,  163. 

Missionaries,  at  Ya-chou,  158; 
status  of,  in  China,  158,  159;  at 
Chengtu,  174;  at  Chung-king, 
208. 

Mohammedan  rebellion,  50,  54. 

Mohammedans  in  Yunnan,   50. 

Monasteries  on  Omei  Shan,  pic- 
turesque names  of,  193. 

Monastery  of  Ten  Thousand 
Years.  See  Wan-nien  Ssu. 

Monastery  of  the  Voice  of  the 
Waters,  182. 

Money,  arrangements  for,  37,  38; 
Yunnan  dollars,  37;  Szechuan 
coins,  37;  Hupeh  money,  37, 
38;  difficulties  concerning,  97, 
98;  for  the  Mongolian  journey, 
241. 

Mongol  city,  in  Urga,  277. 

Mongolia,  and  China,  meet  at 
Kalgan,  235;  prospective  at- 
tractions of,  236,  237 ;  preparing 
for  travelling  in,  237  ff.;  stores, 


240,  242,  243;  money,  241;  on 
the  road  from  Kalgan,  243  ff.  • 
the  "  Camel  Road  "  chosen,  245; 
exports  of,  mostly  animals,  245; 
post-routes  across,  245,  246; 
Russian  influence  in,  246;  first 
impressions  of,  247;  the  grass- 
land, 247  ff.,  259;  inns  in,  248; 
tents  or  huts  ("yurts")  in,  248- 
250;  "the  unchanging  East," 
248;  the  women  and  children  of, 
250,  251,  260,  261;  topographi- 
cal description  of,  251,  252; 
population  of,  253;  government 
oft  253;  opium  habit  in,  255; 
wives  come  high  in,  261;  Chi- 
nese unwelcome  aliens  in,  276; 
lamaism  in,  279,  280.  And  see 
Gobi  Desert  and  Mongolia, 
Northern. 

Mongolia,  Northern,  rainy  season 
in,  270-272;  trade  'of,  controlled 
by  Chinese  of  Mai-ma-chin,  276; 
extension  of  Russian  influence 
in,  284,  285;  railway  connection 
would  be  advantageous  to,  285; 
hold  of  Chinese  Government 
on,  insecure,  285,  286;  coloniza- 
tion of,  by  Chinese,  285,  286. 

Mongolian  plateau,    the,  247  ff. 

Mongolian  Road,  244. 

Mongolian  tents.  See  Tents. 

Mongolian  women.  See  Women, 
Mongolian. 

Mongols,  material  position  of, 
253,  lazy,  254;  their  herds,  254; 
neither  manufacturers  nor  till- 
ers of  the  soil,  254;  as  tea-drink- 
ers, 254;  great  endurance  of, 
254;  intemperate,  254,  255, 
260;  fine  horsemen,  255;  degen- 
erate sons  of  a  conquering  race, 
255;  oppressed  by  Chinese,  not 
by  China,  260;  eye-diseases  of, 


INDEX 


333 


265;  effect  of  lamaism  on,  282; 
prefer  Russians  to  Chinese,  285; 
not  China,  but  civilization  is 
driving  them  to  the  wall,  296, 
297. 

Mongols,  of  the  author's  Mon- 
golian expedition,  257,  258, 
265. 

Mongols,  Northern,  268,  270. 

Monks,  of  Burma,  their  Budd- 
hism, 282. 

Morrison,  George  B.,  237,  238. 

Moscow,  236. 

Namti  River,  18,  21 ;  valley  of,  15, 

21. 

Nan  River,  165. 
Nanking,  as  the  possible  capital 

of  China,  229;  159,  226. 
Nankow,  233,  234. 
Nankow,  Pass  of,  228. 
Napoleon  III,  8. 
Ni  T'ou,  in,  121. 
Nicholas  II,  Tsar,  306. 
Nicolai,  292,  295. 
Ning-yiian-fu,  33,  34,  37,  71,  74, 

75,  80-82,  83,  85,  86,  178. 

Omei  (town),  and  its  pilgrims, 

185;  its  shops,  1 86. 
Omei,  Mount.  See    Omei  Shan. 
Omei  River,  184,  187. 
Omei  Shan,  the  holy  of  holies,  180; 

ascent  of,  187  ff.;  myths  and 

legends  concerning,    188,    189; 

monasteries  on,  190,  193,  194; 

memories  of  a  three  days'  stay 

on  the    summit    of,    194-199; 

wherein  its  charm  consists,  198, 

199,  280. 
Opium  habit,  among  coolies,  107, 

108;  rare  in  Mongolia,  255. 
Opium  trade,  in  Yunnan,  25,  26; 

Manchu   government   adverse 

to,  26. 


Pai-chang,  hiring  a  pony  at,  163- 
165. 

Pai-la  shu  (white- wax  tree),  73. 

Pailou  (memorial  arch),  104,  105. 

Palm-leaf  hats,  19,  20. 

Pao-an-ying,  95. 

Paper,  substitute  for  glass  in 
West  China,  40. 

Passports,  lack  of,  n;  not  re- 
quired within  Chinese  Empire, 
212;  for  Mongolia,  237. 

Pechihli,  Gulf  of,  228. 

Peking,  arrival  at,  228;  situation 
of,  228,  229;  the  Tartar  Wall, 
22gff.;  the  divers  cities  of,  230; 
viewed  from  the  Wall,  231,  232; 
the  American  Legation,  232; 
the  streets,  232 ;  to  the  average 
European  its  history  begins  in 
1900,  233;  preparing  for  Mon- 
golian journey  at,  237  Jf.;  24, 
163,  176,  222,  223,  280. 

Peking  cart,  an  instrument  of  tor- 
ture, 243,  244. 

Peking  railway,  the.  See  Lu-Han 
R.R. 

People's  Assembly,  the,  230. 

Photographing,  in  Szechuan,  156. 

Pien-ma  boundary  question,  29, 
30. 

Pilgrim  to  Lhasa,  the,  112. 

Pilgrims  to  Omei  Shan,  185,  187, 
189,  193.  195- 

P'ing-i-p'u,  98,  99. 

Polo,  Marco,  74,  81, 124, 171, 172, 
230,  244,  248,  250. 

Pongkiong,  260. 

Ponies,  Yunnanese,  34,  35. 

Poppies,  not  now  cultivated  in 
Yunnan,  26;  banished  from 
Chien  Ch'ang,  72,  94. 

"Pork  money,"  36,  96,  97. 

Post-routes,  between  Kalgan  and 
Siberian  frontier,  245,  246. 


334 


INDEX 


Praying-Stones,  138. 
Precious  Stone  Castle,  214. 
Protestant    missions    in    China, 

achievement  of,  158,  159. 
P'u-chi,  53. 
P'u-hsien  Bodhisattva,  189,  190, 

191. 
P'u  Yi,  the  baby  Emperor,  and 

the  new  government,  231. 
Purple  City,  the,  in  Peking,  230. 

Queue,  the,  43. 

Railway,  projected  by  Chinese 
Government,  15,  16. 

Railways  in  China,  history  of, 
225,  226;  the  Kalgan-Peking 
line  the  first  one  built  by  Chi- 
nese, 234. 

Rainy  season,  the,  in  No.  Mon- 
golia, 270-272. 

Rats,  21. 

Red  lama,  the,  258,  265. 

Red  River  R.R.,  from  Hanoi  to 
Yunnan-fu,  14-23;  no  night 
traffic  on,  14;  accommodations 
on,  14;  a  remarkable  undertak- 
ing, 14,  15;  engineering  difficul- 
ties of,  15;  rates  on,  excessive, 

15;  4- 

Reeves,  Captain,  237. 
Reform  movement,  in  Yunnan, 

27. 
"Relay,"    the.     See    Mongolian 

Road. 
Religion,  in  India,  310;  in  China, 

311. 
Religions,  great  diversity  of,  in 

Yunnan,  50. 
Revolution,  Chinese,  effect  of,  on 

railway  project,  16;  27»28,  125, 

177,  201,  222. 
Richthofen,  Baron  von,  106,  165, 

166. 


Rivers  of  Sand.  See  Sha  Ho. 

Rockhill,  Mr.  W.  W.,  American 
explorer  and  diplomat,  112. 

Roman  Catholic  missions  in 
China,  158. 

Roman  Catholic  missionaries  at 
Chengtu,  174. 

Rosthorn,  A.  de,  his  Tea  Culti- 
vation in  Szechuan,  163. 

Russia,  and  the  Mongolian  postal 
service,  246;  her  policy  of 
"peaceful  penetration,"  246; 
extension  of  her  influence  in 
No.  Mongolia,  284,  285. 

Russian  Consulate  at  Urga,  277, 
278. 

Russian  frontier.  See  Siberian 
frontier. 

Russian  settlement  in  Urga,  277, 
291. 

Russians,  in  Urga,  284. 

Russo- Asiatic  Bank  (Urga),  241, 
277,  284. 

Sacred  City,  the.  See  Urga. 

Sal  ween  River,  71. 

Sandals,  43,  44. 

"  Second  Gentleman,"  the  (son  of 

Li  Ping),  167. 
Sedan-chair,  method  of  travelling 

in,  described,  34. 
Sha  Ho,  252. 
Sha  Shen  Ho,  244. 
Shamo.  See  Gobi  Desert. 
Shanghai,  4,  222,  225,  226. 
Shans,  in  Yunnan,  50. 
Shantung,  236. 
Shields,  Dr.,  158. 
Shields,  Mrs.,  158. 
Shih  Ta-k'ai,  Taiping  leader,  89, 

99. 

Shyok  River,  60. 
Si  Kiang,  the,  29. 
Siberian  frontier,  post-routes  from 


INDEX 


335 


Kalgan  to,  245,  246;  arrival  at, 

301-303- 

Siberian  Railway,  236,  306,  307. 
Sikiang,  the,  river  steamer,  from 

Hong  Kong  to  Haiphong  on, 

5-i  I- 

Sinden-fu,  Marco  Polo's  name  for 
Chengtu,  171. 

Singapore,  Chinese  Consul-Gen- 
eral at,  his  mourning,  88. 

Six- Power  Loanof  1908, proved  the 
undoing  of  the  Manchus,  226. 

Soap,  in  Mongolia,  261,  262. 

Soothill,  Dr.,  159. 

"Squeeze,"  the,  96,  97. 

Standard  Oil  Co.,  and  the  white- 
wax  industry,  73;  85. 

Standard  Oil  tins,  use  of,  in  Mon- 
golia, 250. 

Stevenson,  Owen,  missionary,  33, 

4L  53- 

Siichi,  184. 

Sugar,  a  great  delicacy  in  Mon- 
golia, 301. 

Suifu,  64,  75,  203,  206. 

Sung-lin,  inn  at,  87. 

Szechuan  province,  natives  of ,  51 ; 
travelling  in,  63  Jf.;  the  Cloud 
Mountains,  64;  private  school 
in,  67,  68;  condition  of  people 
in,  68;  western  boundary  of, 
124;  beginning  of  its  later  his- 
tory, 171,  172;  viceroy  of,  172; 
Railway  League  of,  and  the 
revolution,  177;  "chuman" 
pagodas  of,  204;  the  river  the 
sole  highway  to,  219;  future  of, 
219,  220;  5,  26,  37,  39,  55. 

Szechuan  dogs,  and  the  sun,  64. 

Szechuan  money,  37. 

Szechuan  road,  the,  217,  218. 

Ta  Ho,  235. 

Ta  Fo  Rapid,  181. 


Ta  Huren,  the  Mongol  city  of 
Urga,  277,  286-288;  alien  ele- 
ments in,  287,  288;  291. 

Ta  Liang  Shan  (Lololand),  74,  75, 
92. 

TaShuehShan,  117. 

Ta  Tu  Ho,  the  limit  of  direct 
Chinese  administration,  124; 
its  only  bridge,  116,  117,  139; 
its  change  of  name,  118,  119; 
42,  89,  99,  101,  143,  161,  180, 
181,  182,  184;  valley  of,  114, 
115,  144,  145. 

Tachienlu,  sui  generis,  123;  situ- 
ation of,  123;  China  and  Tibet 
meet  in,  123;  in  the  grip  of 
lamaism,  124;  principality  of 
King  of  Chala,  125;  govern- 
ment of,  125;  key  to  the  west- 
ern country,  125;  meeting  Capt. 
Bailey  at,  126  /.;  postal  ar- 
rangements at,  128;  the  people 
the  most  interesting  feature  of, 
130,  131;  practically  all  China- 
Tibet  traffic  passes  through, 
I32»  133;  visit  to  a  temple  at, 
136-138;  priests  of,  138;  105, 
106,  no,  119,  141,  160,248. 

Tailless  dog,  hunt  for  the,  205. 

Taiping  rebellion,  the,  89,  99. 

Ta-kiang,  the  Min  sometimes  so- 
called,  203. 

Taoism,  317. 

Tar  Ho,  123. 

Tarantass,  travelling  in  a,  289- 
304- 

Tarchendo  River,  118,  119,  120, 
123,  141,  142;  valley  of,  119, 
120,  121. 

Tartar  City,  the,  in  Peking,  230. 

Tartar  Wall,  the,  at  Peking, 
229  Jf. 

Tashi  Lama,  the,  277. 

Ta-shu-p'u,   unique  instance  of 


336 


INDEX 


native  unfriendliness  at,  99, 
100;  101,  105. 

Tchagan  Hou,  269,  271,274,  289. 

Tea,  on  the  Mandarin  Road,  105 
ff.;  heavy  loads  of  carriers  of, 
105;  of  Ming  Shan,  163.  And 
see  Brick  tea. 

Tea,  Szechuan,  159. 

Tea-houses,  on  the  Mandarin 
Road,  108,  109;  44. 

Temple  of  Heaven,  the,  230,  231. 

Temples,  Chinese,  generally  un- 
interesting, 32. 

Teng-hsiang-ying,  89,  90,  92. 

Tents,  in  Mongolia,  described  by 
Marco  Polo  and  by  Abbe  Hue, 
248-250. 

Tibet,  and  China,  meet  in  Ta- 
chienlu,  123;  frontier  of,  124; 
relations  with  China,  how  af- 
fected by  Chinese  revolution, 
!25;Chinese  conquest  of,  125, 
126. 

Tibet,  Western,  adventure  in,  60. 

Tibetan  Mountains,  92,  123,  162. 

Tibetans,  consume  vast  quanti- 
ties of  brick-tea,  105,  160;  in 
Tachienlu,  124,  131,  134;  de- 
fended by  Captain  Bailey,  132; 
in  Omei,  190;  and  Mongols, 
248;  effect  of  lamaism  on,  282. 

Tien-chiian-chou,    approach    to, 

153,  154;  155- 
Tien-Shan,  251. 
Tientsin,  257,  279. 
Tobacco,  use  of,  universal,  66,  67. 
Tola  River,  274,  275,  276. 
Tommy  Atkins,  in  India,  and  the 

vernacular,  20. 
Tonking,   under   Doumer,  9-11; 

its  value  as  the  key  to  China, 

10. 
Tonking- Yunnan  R.R.    See  Red 

River  R.R. 


"Trackers"  on  the  Yangtse,  215, 

216,  218,  219. 
Travellers  on  Red  River  R.R.,  16, 

17- 

Tso-ling  Ho,  62. 
Tsungli  Yamen,  229. 
Tuan  Fang,  226,  227. 
Tuerin,  268,  269. 

Urga,  the  Sacred  City,  approach 
to,  273,  274;  first  sight  of,  274; 
arrival  at,  275;  three  cities  in 
one,  276,  277;  Chinese  govern- 
ment of,  277;  described,  277; 
worship  of  Bogdo  in,  277;  pil- 
grimages to,  278;  a  wealthy 
Mongol  household  in,  282-284; 
railway  prospects  of,  285;  diffi- 
cult departure  from,  289-291; 
6,  29,  238,  239,  240,  241,  243, 
244,  245,  252,  253,  257,  304. 

Vegetables,  washing,  in  China, 
206;  fresh,  for  Mongolian  jour- 
ney, 242. 

Verchneudinsk,  304,  305, 306, 307. 

Villages,  in  Yunnan,  45. 

Wa  Ssu  Kou,  118,  119,  141,  142. 

Wagons  Lits,  H6tel  des,  at  Peking, 
228. 

Wai-wu-pu,  the,  237,  243. 

Wang,  interpreter,  cook,  and 
general  factotum,  for  the  Mon- 
golian journey,  237,  241,  242, 
257,  262,  269,  275,  289,  290, 
291,  294,  297,  299. 

Wan-hsien,  177,  214,  219. 

Wan-nien  Ssu,  190,  191. 

Water,  a  serious  problem  in  the 
Gobi  Desert,  264. 

Water  Gate  (Peking),  229. 

Wellwood,  Mr.,  missionary,  81, 
84. 


INDEX 


337 


Wellwood,  Mrs.,  178. 

Wells,  in  Gobi  Desert,  252,  264. 

West,  the,  zeal  of,  mars  as  well  as 

mends,  129. 
West    China,    former    ways    of 

reaching,  3;  now  simplified  by 

French  enterprise,  3. 
West  River  valley,  16. 
White  Emperor's  Temple,  the, 

217. 

White  Tsar,  the,  246. 
White-wax  industry,  the,  72,  73; 

wrecked  by  Standard  Oil  Co., 

73- 
Wild  life,  in  the  Gobi  Desert,  262, 

263. 

Windbox  Gorge,  216. 
"Wine  money,"  83,  84. 
Wives,  come  high  in  Mongolia, 

261;  their  status,  261. 
Wolves,  Mongolian,  262,  263. 
Women,  Chinese,  qualities  of,  86. 
Women,  Mongolian,  their  vanity, 

261,  262;  their  dress,  270,  271; 

250,  251. 
Woosung,  225. 
Wuchang,    provincial   capital   of 

Hupeh,  222.  See  Hankow. 
Wu-pan   (boat),  down  the  Min 

and  Yangtse  in,  202  ff. 
Wu-ting-chou,  57-60. 

Ya  Ho,  difficult  navigation  of, 
161;  scenery  on,  161,  162;  152, 
154,  1 80,  184;  valley  of,  157. 

Ya-chou,  105,  106,  139,  140,  155, 
157.  158,  159.  161,  166,  207. 

Yalung  River,  67,  71. 

Yang,  Mr.,  211. 

Yangtse  River,  crossing,  63;  its 
swift  current,  63, 64;  the  "  River 
of  Golden  Sand,"  64;  at  Suifu, 
206;  travelling  on,  206  ff.; 
gorges  of,  218;  at  Ichang,  221; 


and  Han,  three  cities  at  junc- 
tion of,  222;  contrast  between, 
and  the  Hoang,  228;  3,  37,  42, 
42,  71,  116,  163,  165.  And  see 
Min  River. 

Yellow  Emperor,  the,  189. 

Yellow  River.  See  Hoang. 

"Young  Ladies."  See  Annamese 
Tirailleurs. 

Younghusband  expedition  to 
Lhasa,  126. 

Yuan  Shih  Kai,  227. 

Yuan-pu,  the,  192. 

Yueh-hsi,  94. 

Yun  Bay,  16. 

Yunnan,  province  of,  effects  of 
Mohammedan  rebellion  in,  27; 
the  railway  brings  new  life  to, 
27;  the  Reform  movement  in, 
27,  28;  new  military  spirit  in, 
27,  28;  significance  of  adhesion 
to  western  ideas,  27,  28;  dread 
of  foreign  interference  in,  28, 
29;  French  encroachments  in, 
29 ;  French  consulate  in,  29 ; 
government  projects  of  rail- 
ways in,  29;  Bureau  of  Foreign 
Affairs  and  its  chief,  30,  31,  38; 
travelling  across,  42  ff. ;  mean- 
ing of  the  name,  49;  a  "land  of 
sunshine,"  49;  varied  inhabi- 
tants of,  49,  50;  conquest  of,  by 
Kublai  Khan,  50;  proportion 
of  tribes  in  population  of,  50; 
ethnological  map  of,  a  wonder- 
ful patchwork,  50;  variety  of 
religions  in,  50;  a  fine  field  for 
civil  discord,  50;  natives  of,  51; 
hill-roads  in,  52;  travelling 
among  the  mountains  in,  54 ff.; 
estimated  population  of,  55;  3, 
9,  22. 

Yunnan  dollars,  37. 

Yunnan  pony,  102. 


338 


INDEX 


Yunnan-fu,  from  Haiphong  to, 
by  rail,  13,  14;  approach  to,  21, 
22;  its  picturesque  situation, 
23;  its  climate,  23;  an  unattrac- 
tive city,  24;  its  lake,  24,  25; 
famous  for  its  metal  work,  25; 
opium  trade  banished  from,  25, 


26;  military  school  in,  28; 
French  predominance  in,  29;  a 
native  official  hostess  at,  31; 
excursions  from,  32;  hiring 
coolies  at,  33-35,  36;  departure 
from,  41,  42;  3,  21. 
Yurts  (Mongolian  huts),  248,  249. 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U   .   S    .   A 


IXIVEKSITY   OF   CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


OCT  6  1£ 


DEC  111924 


8  1954 


REC'D 

JUN  29  19&2 

APR  12  1966  4  4 

AUG  0  1  2006 

4  J1978 


APR  1 ,0  2000 


30m-6,'14 


U -To,    a 


YC  41774 


268506 


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